The Ghost King Chronicles
by Cannibal Crow
Summary: Nico has reached 16. A landmark of any child of Hades. Seeing Nico might be worth something, Hades offers Nico a gift. A crown. A title. Power. 3 years after TLO/Dark Nico/Partially OOC/Rated T for language and later gore/Part Five of Five up/NO Romance
1. Part One: P A I N

**The Ghost King Chronicles**

_"Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven."_

-_Milton_

**C o n t e n t s**

Part O N E:

_PAIN_

Part T W O:

_FEAR_

Part T H R E E:

_IRONY_

Part F O U R:

_DESPAIR_

Part F I V E:

_DEATH_

_**P A I N**_

_And their sun does never shine,  
And their fields are bleak and bare,  
And their ways are filled with thorns:  
It is eternal winter there.  
-William Blake _

_Darkness._

It encompassed every corner and crevice of these eternally damned lands. It suffocated every ounce of life that dared tread upon its domain. Nothing escaped its vice-like choke hold once it wrapped its steely fingers around ones throat. There was no compassion or mercy in these blackened corridors. These lands do not judge. They are free of bias and discrimination. You can be a high King or lowly peasant and you will suffer all the same if the judges call.

_Screams._

Oh the screams!

Grotesque wails so brittle they cracked the air like a cat o' nine cutting the soft flesh of silence. A wicked sound that crawled its way up your spine and in to your brain. Its rapacious claws tore away at your sanity and sent you in to a rabid frenzy of abject misfortunes. It was a symphony of horrid screeches and wails ranging from deep baritones to high falsettos.

Any unfamiliar with this terrain would not last more than a moment before succumbing to the pernicious shadows that crawled across the scenery. Grubby hands grasped for any mortal flesh, looking for a reprieve from their eternal damnation. Manic eyes dashed around endlessly as they watched and awaited their next torment. Their opaque mouths forever opened with their endless screams.

They are avaricious creatures, as all Underworld dwellers seemed to be. A nasty disease that infected and plagued whomever inhaled the seemingly noxious gases wafting from the very hearth. It was a pungent odor, really; sickening to Above-landers. The stench of death lay at the heart of the aroma surrounded by the festering decay of souls and sulfuric gases. Even the beings with strong stomachs could not take the pestiferous fragrance for long before they were forced down in a mess of retching heaves and coughs. Few, _very_few living creatures could sustain themselves in the kingdom of the dead. One such creatu-

_Movement._

The slightest movement tracing its way around the edge of the shadows was seen. The only sound emanating from the perpetrator was the lightest of breaths and steady beat of his lively heart. _Thump_. What living being would be foolish enough to enter the realm of corpses?_Tha-thump_. Surely one warranting a death wish! _Thump_. A flash of white was seen as the creature moved through a shaft of natural lighting._Tha-thump_. It was the child borne of life and death. Love and hate. Dark and light.

Nico di Angelo.

The one and only son of Lord Hades, God of the Underworld.

The self-proclaimed 'Ghost King'.

No one dared challenge his title.

King of the Ghosts.

Ghosts. _Souls percolating in insanity._

Lunatics.

Luna, Lunar.

Moon.

King of the Moon.

Lady Artemis would be none-too-pleased to hear of this little revelation. Her being the Goddess of the Moon and all. Moon Goddess. Moon. Luna. Lunatic. Insanity. Ghosts. A vicious cycle set on repeat.

She was the Goddess of Insanity, and he the King. _'She would be quite perturbed, I believe.' _He pondered for the moment. _'Perhaps that explains her odd mannerisms.' _At that thought a sarcastic little smirk quirked his lips but soon fell in its ephemeral lifespan. No single emotion lasted long on his face. He was a stoic figure; intimidating with his cruel aura and magnificent features.

_What was so alluring about this creature?_

I say creature for I dare not call him 'human'. No human, no matter how wicked, could be as cold and aloof as this black-clad being. Another trait inherited from his father.

Maybe it was the way he moved in such a sinuous manner. With each shift of his pale athletic figure his entire frame rolled and followed through with the movement like a serpent; a grace so captivating yet even more eerie. _Chilling_. His wiry muscles rippled the same way a felines would as it trailed a hapless doe. A black panther would suite him best I imagine. The way he prowled through the lands mirrored that of a starving panther stalking its prey. So controlled and quiet, yet threatening all the same. A beautiful site to see.

Or perhaps it was his appearance. Hades knows how superficial some can be. He was apparently blessed with desirable looks. Had he ever truly noticed his Adonis features? No, not really. Of course he noticed the wayward glances of the opposite sex. The way they eyed him up and down with looks similar to a hungry wolf. Mysterious, yet recognizable, smiles captured their lips and lust sparkled in their eyes. Had he ever taken advantage of that fact? Of course he did, once or twice. Though he was not one to let himself go with any woman that strutted across his view.

_Paranoia._

No, they had to catch his attention. A feat in its own right. But he was, after all, a teenage boy. Could you blame him for acting on instinct and hormones? It'd be a miracle had he not.

They came to him, like bees to honey. It was so very strange to him. He was not haughty, in fact he attempted to stay away from any group of people. Avoiding crowds was his specialty. Yet some how they managed to find their way to him. All so much alike it was sickening. The very thought of such sheep made the bile rise in his throat. Where had originality and individuality gone? It was beaten down and kicked around by the mainstream executives looking for a better marketing pitch.

_Disgusting._

He tried to keep away from them. He really did.

He dressed in odd black clothing: black ripped pants, black shirts, a black leather duster, black combat boots, a skull ring, and even on occasion black gloves.

His wardrobe was nothing more than a tattered mess of stolen and thrown out clothes he managed to grab up. His hair was an unkempt mess that matched his apparel. His skin, once a healthy shade of olive, now was a stark pale white that clashed with his choice of shade grotesquely. There were dark rings tainted a sickly bruise-like color marring the area under his eyes. A side effect from all his shadow-travelling, monster fighting, and sleepless nights. All in all he was a bedraggled mess.

What he didn't know was that his choice of style was one of the things attracting attention. It was dark, mysterious, and unique. He stood out like a shadow in the sea of light.

Secretly most, if not all, females have a desire for the 'bad boys'. That's what he came off as. His shaggy inky bangs hung close to his brows, casting a shadow across his face and making his obsidian eyes stand out further more, as odd and contradictory as it may seem. They were an endless abyss gleaming with either genius or insanity. _Which one is still under debate_. The longer one looked in to them, the further one would get lost in the maze of his mind.

His face, most commonly seen placid or twisted in to a bitter smirk, was accentuated by the contrasting highlights and shadows. Finely sculpted cheekbones stood out on his pallid complexion. Had it not been for his angular jaw structure and blackened eyes one would almost call his features effeminate.

Enough of his appearance though. I'm certain you'd much rather hear about what he's doing down in his homelands of the Underworld.

His lean figure moved with a sinister finesse through the ashen charnels called 'The Fields of Punishment'. The endless wails of the dead beat in to his skull like the sirens of a defective ambulance. Though he did nothing more than brush past the ghostly forms of his subjects. Their eternal torment and screeches all too familiar to this one. It bothered him as much as a fly would bother a tree. He had grown used to the sounds of torture and actually began to feel a sort of irate affection for the sounds. It was homey. Anything and everything that reminded him of here.

The phantoms screamed out to their leader for help against the torment encasing them. They begged and plead to him; bartering items they didn't have for even a moment of relief from their punishment. He simply breezed past them. He does not barter, not any more; and they did not deserve any help. They were a ragged bunch full of lies and their auras were forever stained with their wicked ways.

Thick leather soles touched upon the ashen ground with little more than a soft _thump._He could have very well been walking barefoot with the unnaturally lithe way he maneuvered. He got lost in his thoughts and allowed the cries to dull to a drone.

It was winter in the world above, meaning school was in session for all other campers. With the exception of the year rounders, of course. That left none of his 'friends' at the camp and certainly no reason for him to remain there in the bitter cold.

He was a widely ignored character when it came to his 'summer home'. Even after four years, and the title of a _War Hero_, he was still avoided like the plague. After the war had ended he was showered with attention and respect. He did not enjoy the aforementioned attention, though the respect was...warming? Yes, warming in a sense. Of course it did not last. After time he was just the scary son of Hades once more.

_Anger._

_Why was he so terrifying?_

He thought and thought about. He sat in his cabin alone and upset at his social misfortunes. Lashing out, he screamed and beat the walls until his fists were bloody and distorted. Bones shattered from the savage contact with the marble surfaces of his cabin. The pain was numbed by fiery hate and adrenaline. His cabin was left a wreck. Beds, widely unused, were broken and destroyed, desks overturned and shattered. Anything breakable was broken. Nothing was left unmarred. Nothing but his family picture and a little figurine of Hades. His father.

The thoughts ravaged his mind relentlessly as he nearly tore the door off its hinges in his mad dash to escape. He had no strength to stumble through the shadows. Not in his beaten condition.

Campers stared in horror at the scene presented to them. They were offered a glimpse into the illusive boys room. What they found was utter destruction and chaos. Blood, his own, splattered all surfaces. The walls, the floor, the furniture, the door, the windows, and even the ceiling was painted with droplets of dark crimson.

_Complete horror_.

All brought on by their ignorance.

They passed it off as another act of violence by the dangerous boy of Hades.

He had no name to them.

Only the title of his father that weighed so heavily upon his shoulders.

_'Why? Why do they hate me? They stare at me as if I am a monster! A creature no better than Kronos. No better than the dirt beneath their shoes. Why did you leave me, Bianca? I need you. I can't take this! What did I do to them? I helped them, didn't I? I convinced father to help in the war! What did I do wrong?'_

The questions plagued him for many years.

Never did he reach a conclusion.

Not until a little while back.

The truth was bitter cold. It always nagged in the back of his mind, yet he ignored it. He didn't truly want to believe it. But as time passed it grew louder and louder until it was blaring in his skull.

_'I was born.'_

It was the truth. He was born. Born to the God of the Underworld. Lord of the Dead. Ruler of Monsters.

He was dark with menacing eyes and an imposing figure. He could raise the dead, control the shadows, and rule the ghosts. Certainly he had to be evil!

All their sideways glances, hideous whispers, and rumors all took their toll on him.

He could not stay full term. It'd kill him.

The only reason he stayed for the summer was for four others. The only ones he hesitantly called 'friend'. Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover, to an extent. Of course there were acquaintances in his good grace like Clarisse and as much as he'd like to deny it, the Stoll brothers.

Though what he considered an acquantince and what someone else would consider an acquantince were two _very_ different things.

His sort of acquaintance was one that did not give him frightened or dirty looks when they thought he was not looking. They held a sort of mutual respect for one another and a distinct understanding. Though they lacked the common civility of friendship.

They were the other Heros of the War.

The demigods who fought in the last stand all held his acquaintance.

_There were few of them left._

Only the heroes would understand.

They had experienced the pain and the death. The fought for their lives, for the Gods existence, and for Olympus. They slayed monster after monster until gold dust clouded the air and painted their bodies. They killed enemy demigods. Blood stained their weapons a sickening ruby.

For a moment in time when they took their last stand at the doors of the Empire State Building did they share the shocking wave of fear and determination. They all looked death in the face and were physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred.

He respected them.

They knew what the new campers did not.

Now that most of the Heroes are grown and gone he did not want to stay at camp any longer than necessary.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he strolled further through the Underworld. He was covered in soot and ash from the Fields of Punishment as he crossed over to the Fields of Asphodel. Shades roamed about as the screams faded to quiet sobs and moans. _'Pitiful creatures. I think I prefer the screams.'_

A slight sneer encased his lips as the shades cried to be brought back to life and how they didn't deserve to die. Everyone deserves to die.

The black grass swayed in a nonexistent breeze and a heavy silence plagued the atmosphere, bringing a depressing aura to the lands. He grimaced at the uncomfortable feel of the place and nodded to himself. He did prefer the rivers of lava and barbed wire sections of the Fields of Punishment. At least there it seemed _life _dwell. As much as he enjoyed the dead he craved for the living. Something he'd never get. He was resigned to that fact.

_Frustration._

It boiled under the surface of his skin like magma waiting to burst free from a volcano. His jaw clenched as he smoothly sidestepped a fallen stalagmite.

Often he wondered what it'd be like to be like his cousins Percy or Thalia. They were loved by many and praised for their heroic deeds. Of course he didn't want to be recognized for what he's done. He simply wanted to be understood.

Now Nico has a little more angst than the common. Growing up a demigod and living in the Underworld tends to do that.

Black brows furrowed as he contemplated the idea of being in their position. By now the idea was stretched out, pulled apart, and completely exhausted. He looked at it from every perspective, every light, every angle. Yet he could never picture himself anywhere else. This is who he is. Yes, he yearned for normality. What half-blood doesn't? Still, he couldn't help but think no matter how shitty his own life is, it's all he knows. There is no way of changing who he is and where he came from, so there is no point in obsessing over what can never be.

He will _always_ be the 'bad one' hanging in the back.

He will _always_ be the unrecognized one.

He will _always _be just 'The son of Hades, the son of the Big Three.'

And so he brushed off the pain and resentment, picked himself up, and carried on with himself. Albeit he's a far more impersonal, brazen, and aloof version of himself. At least he no longer beats himself for answers and silently sits alone in his cabin, wondering _'What if?'_ He passed that phase.

_Chills_.

He felt a tingling sensation, like icy pin pricks up and down his spine. A shade was forming before his eyes. He paused, waiting patiently for it to materialize and speak. Soon a rugged male specter faced him. Those hollow eyes filled with fright and respect. Respect due to the fright. It got down in a misty kneel, awaiting permission from its lord to talk.

"Rise and tell me why you interrupt my musings."

He always spoke formal with the spirits. They seem to react better when he did so. It rose in one adroit motion and began speaking its scraping tones.

_"My lord, Lord Hades requests an audience with you immediately." _

That was it. Oil-slick eyes pierced the shade with an intensity that made the spirit shudder subtly in fear. After a moment of silence Nico spoke once more. His voice was metallic and sharp. The venom laced each silken syllable and the frigid tone left the air feeling cooler.

"Very well. I will arrive shortly. You are dismissed."

It gave a sharp nod and bow before vanishing as swiftly as it came.

Shades. An easily frightened lot.

With a passing wonder as to why his father wanted him he allowed the shadows to engulf his body.

He welcomed the cold darkness of shadow travelling, and it welcomed him in return. There was no resistance as he passed through. His breath came out in calm puffs of frost and the chill settled in bones. Energy was taken as a payment to the shadows in turn for his passing. With the exchange he stepped out of the darkness and in to the throne room of his father's palace.

Hades watched the shadows grow and breath with life with menacing charcoal eyes. His ichor blood ran as cold as the darkness surrounding him. Erebus stood behind him, though more as a shadow than a figure. To his left sat his wife, and niece, Persephone. The colors in her skin, hair, and clothes were dulled magnificently with the winter season. It frustrated him to no end seeing the dead look inhabit her eyes.

With nothing more than a faint sigh he looked back at the darkness. A humanoid shape took place just moments before his only child strolled out. He had grown a lot over the passing years and to the never changing God it was so very odd.

He remembered seeing Nico and his sister Bianca as just children happily running around and clinging to their mother.

_Maria di Angelo._

Pain coursed through his body as he thought back to his mortal love.

Unlike other Gods he actually _did_ love her. They had two children together and he visited her many times over the course of twelve years. He would have built her a palace of gold if she so pleased. Losing her, it just further brought on his merciless and wicked nature. He distrusted his brother and felt a deep bitterness toward his family for what they had done.

He remembered the way she looked. A smile passed on to their daughter Bianca and dark gleaming eyes like their son Nico. Black hair in soft billows and a slender, motherly figure. She was bold and didn't let Zeus intimidate her in to letting her children go. Ultimately it caused her death. A slight grimace marred his pale lips.

That soft, loving smile would never make his day brighter again. When Bianca died, he went a little with her. His bitterness was shoved off on to his last remaining child and only reminder of Maria. Nico. Certainly his children had to be incompetent! All his demigod children had died before reaching maturity. Oh and Hades was far less promiscuous than his other family members. For his children to die was a terrible thing.

Black eyes observed his son for a moment, taking in his proud stature and virulent aura. Eyes dark as Tartarus stared back in to his own. They were cold and calculating, not a trace of affection left to linger. There was a hint of emotion he could not rightly identify. But it was extinguished just as soon as it appeared. There was almost nothing left in the boy to call human.

He had turned his own son in to a monster.

He was destroyed.

_Guilt._

It racked the Lord of the Dead's mind for a moment before being extinguished just as quickly. _'Good. If the boy is a monster then he will succeed in his job.'_ He could make up every excuse in the book but that would never stop the little voice from nagging and screaming blame at him in the back of his mind.

_He had done it._

Nico knelt before his father, awaiting the signal to rise.

_"Rise, my son."_

Smoothly he stood and glanced at Lord Hades and Lady Persephone. He gave her a bow of respect then one to Lord Erebus. Even in his gaseous state, Nico could almost make out a faint grin on those misty lips. His attention was brought back to his father as the Lord rose from his throne. The fluid motions and cascading black fabric of his tunic reminded him of oil running down a rocky path. Each movement made was unnaturally smooth and caused Nico to feel inferior in comparison. It made him feel like a cumbersome oaf, even though that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Lord Hades made his way down the black marble steps only to stop before his son and look upon him critically. A frown creased his features, only furthering Nico's feelings of inadequacy. In reality, his father was pleasantly surprised with how strong and domineering his son appeared. Only, he looked far too much like himself and not his mother. That was one reason he favored his sister over him. She looked more like her mother. Finally he spoke. His voice was pure ice and fear. No way around it. There was no evil within it like many think. His father was not evil. Just misunderstood, as he is.

_"Nico, my son, it's your birthday, is it not?"_

He stood slightly wary, eying his father and speaking carefully. Even though he was watching his words that did not stop the poison from filling the words and the cool indifference from stinging the air. Why did he care if it was his birthday? The most he got from his father on his birthday was his sword, though many believed he forged it himself.

"Yes it is, my Lord."

His father gave him a hard glance before continuing on. The meeting was tense and far too formal. Not what a father and son should be like. That brought thoughts of Poseidon and Percy to mind which he quickly banished.

_"How old are you now?"_

Again, he was surprised at his father's question. Why does he care to know his age? But of course he would never say, or think, that for Lord Hades to hear. That would be a terrible terrible thing.

Literally he was over 70 years old, due to the Lotus Casino. Though he knew that wasn't what his father meant.

"I am sixteen."

Just as Hades thought.

He could see the well concealed surprise and wonder as to his questions. It was mildly upsetting to see his son feel such a way. Was it really that odd for him to care?

_Yes._

He gave a hum in response before turning around smoothly and striding over to Erebus. Nico could not see what was going on but he could hear the lightest shuffle of fabric before his father and Lord Erebus came gliding back in front of him. Lady Persephone, out of pure curiosity, not generosity, came to stand beside her husband. She gave Nico a disdainful look before looking back to Lord Hades. Nico gave her a cold glance and nothing more.

Finally his father looked back down to a slightly confused and curious Nico. The expression made him want to grin a bit. It was almost innocent, except for the underlying sinister tone. He cleared his throat to catch his sons attention once more before continuing to speak.

_"That is quite a feat, especially for a child of Hades. How you managed and not your sister still puzzles me."_

He grimaced at the hurt and frustration that crossed his sons face. Though by the neutral expression it seemed almost as if Nico was used to it.

_He is._

To Nico, the grimace was one of disappointment and disgust aimed at him. Of course he felt the pain of his fathers remark burning his insides and the frustration that he just _wasn't_ good enough. He isn't as good as his sister, obviously. He'll never be good enough to his father.

He'll just never be enough.

_He's resigned to it._

Without hesitation his father trudged on in his words. He would not let his sons weaknesses hinder him. Zeus, he should be happy with his father!

_"Either way, that and your...performance...in the war years ago has shown me you might not be _completely_ useless. On that note, I have a gift for you."_

_Surprise_.

Nico was shocked. Not only was he complimented, well complimented in Hades' way, but he was going to receive a gift? He would have stood with his mouth open and eyes wide had he not been afraid of what his father would do. In fact, he stood straighter, if possible, and even more stoic.

He tried to hide his surprise.

His delight.

His fear.

He was surprised his father would be so...kind? He was delighted he was not completely insulted per usual. Oh and he feared it was all a joke. One big joke in order to hurt him further, humiliate him more.

Hades noticed.

He frowned but continued on.

_"As a reward for your efforts I, Lord Hades, grant to you, Nico di Angelo a crown."_

_Staring._

Nico stared at him with a perplexed expression. A...crown? Lord Erebus stepped forth with a black velvet cloth. His opaque hands skimmed the soft surface before flipping back the folded edge and revealing an odd piece of metal. It was as black as his Stygian sword. Black as a nightmare. It appeared to be breathing and Nico looked closer, noticing how it moved in wisps before realizing it was the shadows curling around a piece of barbed black metal.

He looked back up to Lord Erebus, whom simply grinned his nebulous grin. Then he looked over to Lord Hades, who stared at him with an unreadable expression. He did not even dare look at Lady Persephone. There would be no good expression there.

_"It is created from Stygian and shadows, made in the forges of the Underworld, dipped in the river Styx, and designed by Lord Erebus himself."_

_Lies._

Lord Erebus did not design it by himself. In fact, he did not design it at all. It was Hades who had created the plans for it and over seen the entire operation. Did he want Nico to know that he designed it? No. It'd make him look weaker, in his opinion. Caring brought upon weakness. So he could not look like he cared.

Of course Erebus had helped by providing shadows to encase the barbs of Stygian metal and powers to fuel it. But, as promised, he would take credit for the design.

Nico stared for a moment, overwhelmed by what he was receiving before turning to Lord Hades, about to ask why he was receiving it, not that he was ungrateful or anything. Simply curious. Before he had a chance to ask his father kept on explaining.

_"This crown is the only of its kind. It is a symbol of power and heavy gift. With it comes responsibilities both Lord Erebus and I expect you to take care of. The power it contains is beyond any weapon you ever owned. If you accept this crown you accept the powers and you accept the duties. You will become the crown Prince of Darkness. Do you accept?"_

_Shock._

It was the most his father ever spoke to him at once. It was the most his father ever offered him, even if he did not make it. His father believed in him, believed he could hold such power and so did Lord Erebus. Oh it scared him. He did not want to fail them, but he did not want to deny their gracious gift. And so he calmly took one step forward and looked his father square in the eyes.

"I accept your gift, my lords."

His expression was strong to the point of near defiance. Almost as if daring Hades to say he couldn't do it. His lip twitched, wanting to grin at the boys determination, but he kept his face expressionless. Then he turned to Erebus, eyes meeting for a moment before he grabbed the crown gently and twisted back to face his son. Persephone made a disgruntled sound but was ignored for the most part. This was an important moment in both his son's and his own life. Her jealousy would not affect it.

Nico drew his black sword and touched the tip to the black marble floor before getting down on one knee in a kneeling position. One hand wrapped around the dark leather hilt while the other covered the butt of his sword. His head was bowed as his obsidian eyes looked at the mirror-like floor.

He could see the reflections of his father, Lord Erebus and Lady Persephone. _'She looks quite unhappy.'_ He observed from her akimbo stance.

Expressions were distorted on the reflective surface but he could make out as his father reached over and placed the crown on his head. The feeling was odd to him. His father's touch lingered a moment more than necessary before he pulled back and spoke in his cold voice.

_"Rise my son."_

Fluidly he got back to his feet and looked to his father. Hades observed him for a moment, taking in the appearance of his son and carving it in his memory. He stood strong and proud with the black crown placed regally on his head. He looked as if he was born to wear such a dark symbol of power. It made him...proud? Yes, very proud. But of course he would not let him know that. Though he could not stop his expression from softening slightly and the tiny grin from curving up his lips. No, that was impossible to stop.

_"All hail Nico di Angelo, the Prince of Darkness, King of Ghosts, and Ruler of Monsters."_

_Pride._

Nico felt a dark smirk begin to creep up his lips in utter joy and pride at what his father granted him, but he fought it back. He could not let his father see his happiness. It may anger him, might disgust him. It'd make him think his son is weak. Nico did not want that. Not at all. Instead he gave a calm stare.

The shadows seemed to creep down from the crown and encase his body in their soft tendrils as well. It was a comforting feeling. The cold shadows slithered around him like serpents.

_Movement._

He then noticed it was not just the four of them any longer.

Skeletons, shades, and monsters alike stood around the throne room. Well, they _bowed _around the thrown room. Bowed...to him. It was gratifying, though embarrassing as well. He never was one for the spot light. With a signal from Lord Hades they all rose again. He turned back to his father once he started speaking of the crown and its functions.

_"This crown will send any who dare try and wear it without your consent straight to the Underworld. To me. That is to keep any from attempting to obtain its power. If you tap it once, it will disguise itself as any sort of hat you desire. Tap it twice and it turns in to armor. Tap it once more to set it back to its original self. It acts like a miniature of my helm, meaning it radiates large amounts of fear, can render you invisible in every sense if you wish it to do so, and will allow you to melt in to the shadows to allow you to bypass walls and shadow travel with ease. This is a symbol of your power. Monsters and shades alike will recognize it as well as you. It will help control your powers. Your sword has evolved with the power of the crown. Do you understand, my son? "_

_Amazement._

He was going to be given _that?_ He was beyond words at the moment. He simply nodded, while still processing the information. Lord Hades trusts him with that much power? A warm feeling began to grow inside his achingly cold heart. Happiness.

_"Good. Now pay attention closely, boy. Here is what you will be responsible for. I will send you sporadically on missions when Thanatos is busy to collect the souls evading me. That means anyone escaping death will get a run in with you, whether they be monster, mortal, or immortal. It will be your job to find why the souls are lingering on Earth without my consent and decide if they should be allowed to stay on Earth or go to the Underworld for judgement. Only in extreme cases do I want you to come to me for it. I don't want you running to me for every little issue. You will cast the final vote in judgement if a case is at a standstill. You will assist Lord Erebus with what he needs in exchange for easy shadow travelling. You now have a dominion of the dead and creatures inhabiting the Underworld. That involves shades, skeletons, and monsters. Of course there will be rebellious monsters, seeing as you are a demigod, but that will be easy for you to handle. Now, do not disappoint me. I am putting a good amount of power in your hands, as well as my judgement and pride. Mess this up and I will send you to Tartarus. Repeat after me. 'I, Nico di Angelo, accept this crown along with its powers and duties. I banish the light and welcome the shadows.' If I accept, you will gain your titles."_

_Fear._

He was scared to make the oath. Those were some really heavy burdens that would be placed on his shoulders. But his father believed he could do it, right? Otherwise why would he risk his pride giving him the powers? He could not let him down. He certainly did not want to let Lord Erebus down either. He repeated the oath with cold strength.

_"I, Nico di Angelo, accept this crown along with its powers and duties. I banish the light and welcome the shadows."_

Of course that did not mean he would not be able to walk in the light, rather the shadows would follow him no matter where he went. Eternal darkness.

His father gave him a deadly smooth grin. A foreign emotion flared in those dark eyes before he spoke words as smooth and cool as marble.

_"I accept. Now it's time for a power upgrade, my son. It may hurt just a bit."_

_Pain._

Unbearable pain.

With a sinister chuckle the pain flared up inside him. It felt as if every cell in his body was being dipped in liquid nitrogen and shattered. His limbs felt as if they were being torn from his body.

_Darkness._

Soon he slipped in to the familiar darkness. Except this was unconsciousness. He had passed out from the excruciating pain.

_Screams._

His screams rang throughout the entire Underworld.

All activities stopped.

All cries were silence in the Fields of Punishment.

It was only his screams that filled the air. His throat raw and bloody from the unconscious screaming.

His father cringed inwardly at the terrifying sound. It pained him to torture his son so, but it needed to be done. Hades picked up the thrashing form of his son and brought him to rest in his room before leaving with a look back. Even with the obsidian door closed it still sounded as though his soon was in his arms. It'd be over in one week. One long week. With a sigh he resided to his throne.

_Pain._

It came in many shapes and forms.

Nico di Angelo knew each one intimately as lover born.

Lord Hades knew each one resentfully as lover lost.

_A simple Child,  
That lightly draws its breath,  
And feels its life in every limb,  
What should it know of death?  
-William Wordsworth_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, any of the characters, quotes, or The Crow.**_

_**Formatting and content inspired from The Crow by James O'Barr and Dark Angel by Ryan Corven **_

**A/N** This is Part One of my five part Chronicle.

Each part will be a lengthy one shot.

This was written over many different time periods, so excuse the shitty composition and choppy sections. I'm getting over some personal tragedies and this helped, to an extent.

Now here's a closer look to some parts.

When talking about the Moon being related to Ghosts, it's self-explanatory. Either you get it or you don't. And _NO_ I'm not actually saying Artemis is the queen of insanity, nor Nico the king. All figurative people.

When talking about all the girls loving him, I'm not doing it to make him seem more attractive and such. I'm actually making fun of Mary Sue's. You know, the annoying OC brigade that somehow manages to capture his heart in 50billion stories? Not all are bad of course, but many are REALLY annoying. So that's what I was talking about.

When talking about him trashing his cabin in frustration, it's like it says. I can imagine Nico being fourteen or fifteen and so completely hurt and hateful because how everyone reacts to him. He's a son of Hades. That's all they see and it gets to him so deeply. _This is also dedicated to those who are bullied to the point of suicide or self-harm._ People can be monsters to one another. I know from experience. I _was_ the bully. I _was_ the monster. It was terrible and I regret every minute of it. I was an insensitive subhuman. I was also the one bullied at a point, but not in a way yous would think. And so that's how I wrote it. I wrote from experience.

If you don't understand the last 2 sentences...oh well.

If yous would like more information on why/how I wrote and such and I get enough requests, I'll write a sort of a/n chapter on the meanings.

_Anything_ in italics that has "" around it is someone, aside from Nico, speaking.

_Anything_ in italics with '' around it is a thought.

_Anything_ in italics with nothing around it is just an emphasized word.

**Each part will be placed under a new **_**chapter**_**. NOT a new story.**

It is more convenient that way.

Reviews, CC, etc. welcome.


	2. Part Two: F E A R

**The Ghost King Chronicles**

_"__Now if you wanna serve above or be a king below with us,_  
_ You're welcome to the city where your future is set forever."_

-_Beast and the Harlot, Avenged Sevenfold  
_

**C o n t e n t s**

Part O N E:

_PAIN_

Part T W O:

_FEAR_

Part T H R E E:

_IRONY_

Part F O U R:

_DESPAIR_

Part F I V E:

_DEATH_

_**F E A R**_

_Fear tastes like a rusty knife.  
-John Cheever _

_Pain._

It coursed through his withering body at such a velocity he could not pinpoint its origin.

It was as if a bomb was set off within his body, affecting every part of him simultaneously.

His voice was hoarse from screaming, yet he could not hear.

The pain was so intense it dulled every sense and left but a static ringing where his auditory perception should have been.

_Numb._

It was as if they had injected him full of Novocaine.

He felt...

Nothing.

Nothing but...

_Cold._

So very cold.

Yet the pain was gone.

_"Hello young Hero..."_

A lilting voice sprang up from the tense atmosphere.

The clearly feminine voice sounded as mournfully beautiful as a funeral knell.

It was so alluring, so comforting, yet it held a mischievous edge.

_Danger._

He attempted to rise up and face this voice, yet found himself unable to.

He was bound together, tied down.

He was...

Trapped.

_Laughter._

Soft and sensual, could be heard right by his ear.

Yet he could not see the owner of such a beautiful sound.

He could not see a thing.

The foe whom had relentlessly bound him had cut off all of his senses as well.

All but sound.

Sound and...

_Touch._

A gentle hand crept its way up his body lasciviously.

His body shivered with delight while his mind ran rampant in search of a solution to his situation.

The feather light touches of the woman's _(or so he assumed) _ hand left a cool trail of goosebumps, as if it were flesh-to-flesh contact.

A delicate hum sounded through the deathly silent atmosphere and effectively shattering the pitiful illusion of a halcyon sleep.

The hand crept up his thigh and over the leather of his belt.

A rush of excitement ran like liquid down his spine, yet his mind did not register the provocative caress. He was too caught up in the primitive sensation of survival instincts.

He, being a demigod, was more attuned to his primordial intuition.

So far they had done him well.

The feminine hand stroked from his navel up to his chest. Another ripple of pleasure crawled across his frame. He tested his bonds again, subtly pushing with all his strength.

Subtly for he did not want to alert his captor of his intents.

He could sense the shadows that crept all around him and called out to them. They slithered forward like serpents at his will. Silently he tried to shadow travel out of this trap, yet found himself incapable. They could not even break what held him. It was almost as if they _wouldn't. _ His efforts, though persistent and strong, were utterly futile.

A teasing laugh echoed right beside him, as if they knew of his failed attempts.

_"There is no use struggling Hero. You can not escape."_

The voice, and he was certain is was a female for no man can conjure such a feminine quality, was right beside him.

He felt the cool breath tickling against his ear and down his neck. Suddenly, he jerked, attempting to knock his captor away despite his bindings.

The shadows encasing him seemed to tighten like a tourniquet and sufficiently put an end to his retaliation. He choked out a wheezing cough.

_Suffocation_

It felt like his lungs were being crushed and he could not breath.

Each inhale hurt worse than the last and he was left struggling for the cool air he could not catch.

_Noise_

That voice was speaking once more, almost chiding him.

_"That was a foolish thing to do. Will you behave?"_

His pride wanted him to refuse, yet his brain wanted him to nod, to _plead._

And Nico di Angelo certainly never pleaded.

But his rational side won out and he gave a stiff, slightly panicked nod. He wanted to breath.

_To live._

Oh how the irony bit at him. He was brought back to those lonely days in his empty cabin, wishing to truly live. To be like _them._ The other loved campers. Now he was glad he was not like those banal pricks who were so prejudiced against others different than them.

He knew some were good, and with flashes of his 'friends' his mind began to recede in to the familiar numbness he so enjoyed.

With a final excruciating squeeze the shadows seemed to snap like rubber bands and his body was free to breath once more. Not just breath but also move.

He shot up like coiled sprang and hugged his aching ribs, wheezing and gasping for precious oxygen.

He felt feeble.

_Weak._

How easy it was for one person to suck the life from him and he could do nothing to stop them. Oh what would his father think if he seen him now?

_"He would strip me of all the powers I had recently received and punish me fiercely for being so easily overcome!" _His thoughts screamed at him, blaming him.

He was a failure.

_Again._

He bitterly reprimanded himself for not putting up a better fight or refusing to heed his captor.

His icy hands reached up to remove the blindfold restricting his eyesight.

Only...There was no blindfold. His eyes were open and he was looking, yet he could not see.

Was he...

_Blind?_

Panic rose inside him as he looked around, trying to see _anything._

Nothing.

His heart beat rapidly as he thought about what would happen to him now that he could not look upon the world and face the monsters that so eagerly would devour a handicapped demigod.

_Movement._

He saw movement beside him and whipped his head around, excited at the prospect that he was not blind.

His face fell and heart plummeted. There was...

_Nothing._

Nothing but...

_Darkness._

Wait! The darkness. It...moved? It seemed to shift and slide and he gazed curiously. It appeared to be moving toward him. Suddenly it was as if he could see the figure in the darkness.

But the figure was not _in_ the darkness. It _was_ the darkness.

Though it was all composed of darkness he could make out the figure and the features. _"It's almost like a sixth sense,"_ He pondered. Was it a new power? The ability to make out the shadows?

The figure was clearly a woman. Shorter than himself, who stood a good 6' 0". He estimated her to be around 5' 7". She was statuesque, that much he could see. Her body was generously curvaceous without being obnoxious. He was not good at figuring out the shapes of others faces, but figured hers to be heart shaped. Black tendrils waved down to mid back and he assumed those to be her hair.

Her eyes were black voids, as deep as tartarus. Her lips were contorted in to that mischievous grin he envisioned she would have.

He shifted uncomfortably as he found himself staring rather rudely. Regaining his composer and some what hollow pride, he stood tall and looked her in the eyes coolly.

His posture to many others would be regarded as regal and defiant, daring any to come at him. His stare would send shivers down most people's back.

She was not human. Therefore she was not intimidated like most others would be. She let out a laugh at his nature.

He did not flinch at her reaction. His body would move on its own accord every now and again. The ADHD and battle instincts warming his muscles. If anything it only added to the dark aura around him.

Preparation for battle.

He was having a bit of trouble keeping his eyes on those black voids. Not because he was scared, but for other hormonal teenage reasons. Oh he knew he'd have trouble not coming back to this memory and re-examining her body in the future. He may be cold and broken, but that did not mean he didn't feel primitive emotions such as lust.

He just didn't feel it to such extents normal teenage boys felt it. The paranoia kept it at bay. It also helped for him to remember that she was not human.

For all he knew she could be a goddess, titan, or a monster. Despite that he could not completely keep his emotions in check.

He met Aphrodite before, after the Battle for Olympus. Oh she was beautiful. He still thought about what he saw. Even if this being before him did not match the utter perfection he still felt attracted to her. She was dark, devious, and imperfect.

Sort of like him.

Of course he would never, _ever_ imagine himself actually having a relationship with others.

He had...commitment issues...Was it wrong for him to desire that touch again, though?

In an attempt to keep himself battle-ready he beat all existing thoughts away and focused on her movement. She laughed again before coming to a standstill mere feet from him.

_"Relax young one. I am not here to harm you. Do you know who I am?"_

Her voice was cold and held that eerie sort of echo you hear on those cliché ghost movies.

He thought hard on whom she could be. He may know more on Greek mythology than any mortal, but that did not mean he knew everything. Pondering the qualities shown by this female, he went through a list of possibilities. No monster matched the description. Shadows..Shadows..That's all he could think of to base his assumptions off of.

Shadows are in Lord Erebus' territory. Lord Erebus...

_Shadows..._

_Erebus.._

_Erebus and_

_Nyx._

He spoke cautiously, in an effort not to offend the powerful primordial deity. He had heard passing tales of times when Hypnos would agitate Zeus and Hypnos would hide behind Nyx. Zeus, in fear of earning her wrath, would back down and leave the minor god alone.

It is those tales that he learned when to watch his tongue. She was, after all, one of the originals. She was before Kronos himself, as was her husband and brother, Erebus. She had power even Zeus feared. And with that Nico feared as well.

_"I assume you are Lady Nyx?"_

It was spoken as a question in a further effort to avoid her strife. He may have decent control over the shadows and darkness but she _was the darkness. _

A wider grin spread up her blackened features.

_"That I am hero."_

Immediately he keeled in respect, as he did to each deity he met. She laughed, motioning for him to rise. It was not often she got such young and fragile company. It pleased her greatly to have one that was not an immortal in her graces. But this was a business call.

_"Rise and come forth. This is not a social visit. We are in your own mind as you lay sleeping right now. Well, as close to sleep as you've been in days."_

In Hades' palace Nico's screams still echoed off the obsidian walls. Hades was still pained at what he had done to his only son. Slowly the days ticked by. Soon he would no longer feel the pain. He would be powerful; his heir in a sense.

Nico pondered that for a moment. At first it came off as odd, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. She is the mother of Lord Hypnos, the God of Sleep, after all. Upon request he could grant her access to Nico's dreams.

Standing in a surprisingly elegant manner he took two steps forward, seeing as there wasn't much of a distance between them to begin with.

His stride was smooth, like the slithering of a hunters prowl, and she was slightly surprised to see such grace in the boy. _"Well, what should I expect? He is Hades boy, after all," _She thought placidly.

She knew Hades personally, seeing how her husband works with him. After meeting him she determined that he was the epitome of refined grace and regality.

"_What, if I may ask, would entail such a visit, my Lady?"_

She grinned at his manners and spoke in that echoing cadence he had grown accustomed to.

"_I hear you work for my husband now. Would that happen to be true?"_

He was puzzled over her words. Why would she care? Perhaps she was possessive, or perhaps she was merely curious. But what was the importance of this meeting, seeing as she said it was not a social call. He gave a simple nod as he pondered this.

Her grin grew a slight bit more as she continued speaking, taking one step forth. Their bodies now were less than two feet apart and he was growing anxious. He was uncomfortable with the close proximity between them and what Lord Erebus would do if he knew what was happening at the moment.

"_That's very good. I was told of your situation and crowning by him. Congratulations. I was requested to give you something."_

He would have responded had she not pushed him suddenly.

Those small hands held such a force he thought his bones would snap. Effortlessly he went soaring.

With this being endless darkness he thought he would never stop, yet he smashed in to...nothing?

It was as if there was a black wall behind him. Feebly he rose and looked around, wondering where she had gone.

Suddenly she was in front of him once again and pressing on him.

Only this time it wasn't to push him away. She was pressing _herself_ on to him.

_Surprise._

He was shocked yet attempted to move away from her. He feared her, as well as one he would rather cross he was not sure.

She pushed him against the wall with more strength than he could imagine.

"_Relax. I would rather not have to hurt you."_

He could hear the underlying threat in her mystifying voice and stood still, despite what his inner conscious was saying.

A part of him wanted to run and fight.

The other part wanted to submit.

For her to continue.

_Lust._

It was not foreign to him, yet he felt ashamed for feeling such a thing toward his _boss'_ wife.

His Id battled his Superego, wanting to let go and say 'Fuck the consequences.' His superego fought back just as fierce, repeating morality and righteousness like a broken record.

_Resistance._

He fought against what he wanted, thinking of the labels he was given and wanting to defy them. They believed he was impulsive, aloof, and selfish. Here, even if no one else could see, he would prove them wrong. If only for a little reminder that he wasn't the monster they believed him to be.

She sighed at his struggle. Despite what she could do to him she did not hurt him for his defiance.

Pushing a hand against where his heart beat, she used her other hand to grab his chin and hold his face forward.

She pressed her lips to his own and forced his mouth open, yet did nothing further. A cool wisp seemed to crawl down his throat infected his bloodstream.

_Cold._

It was like the coldest winter breeze he could imagine.

A shiver racked his body.

She pressed harder against his chest.

Harder yet.

_Pain._

It coursed through every fiber of his being. He thought of the recent even where he was forced down in pain after the crowning.

Still she pushed on.

He thought she would break her hand right through his chest cavity.

_Cracking._

He felt his ribs begin to snap and he choked down a scream. Yet a whimper escaped his throat.

Suddenly there was an odd tingling where her hand rested. The pain subsided and was replaced with a crawling sensation, as if something was moving inside his chest.

She did, in fact, thrust her hand in to his chest.

The cold power she sent down his throat was felt throughout the entire cavity of his being.

Another shock-wave of pain and ice was sent directly to his heart. It hurt worse than the previous pain and rivaled the pain of his coronation.

He felt his heart skip at the unexpected wave.

It stuttered.

Like an old car pushed to it's limit.

It...

_Stopped._

He was...

_Dead._

Yet he still stood conscious and shocked.

In a flash of icy black Nyx was no longer upon him and the pain was gone.

"_My gift has been given and my duty is done."_

The voice seemed to echo with no source. He could no longer see her lustrous frame or teasing lips.

She was...

_Gone._

He felt his heart, checked for a beat, and was met with an empty chest. His pulse no longer pumped with vital blood.

Yet he moved.

He breathed.

He...

_Lived._

Suddenly a door slammed open with a thunderous bang and he peered at the perpetrator.

There was...

_No one._

A flashing light blinded him. He attempted to shield his eyes from the painful brightness.

With the sound of a thousand vacuums he was sucked through the portal and in to a realm of unbearable brightness.

_Scream._

He heard a terrible scream that sounded if Thanatos himself were torturing the soul.

His eyes shot open only to reveal his room.

The screams had stopped.

It had been him who was screaming.

_Pain._

Another wave of unbearable pain crashed through him and he jerked as if it would give him some relief.

It only brought on more.

He fell off his bed and on to the cold obsidian floor. His back arched as he let out a guttural sound that sounded more animal than man.

That only caused even more pain.

In an attempt to alleviate the uncomfortable feeling in his throat he coughed, only to see blood splatter his hands.

He bit back more screams, both to save his throat and not anger his father.

Little did he know he screamed for days on end and his father felt such remorse and self-loathing it would rival Nico in masochism.

He stayed silent.

_One minute._

The pain began building, like anticipation when climbing the hill of a roller coaster, preparing for the drop-off.

_Two minutes. _

It was growing tremendously. Almost to the peak now.

_Three minutes._

Tears welled in his obsidian eyes in an effort to hold back the turmoil inside. Just reaching the top now.

_Four minutes._

He bit his lip in an attempt to relieve some pent up pain. His lip split at the force and poured blood on to the dark floor. We've arrived at the peak. Anticipation is at its height and you look down, scared at the prospect of falling but excited about the trip down.

_Five minutes._

The descent.

He cracked.

_Screams_

Full of pain and agony, he wailed, sending droplets of blood spattering the surfaces within reach. He was plummeting down the tracks and reaching a low.

His hands wrapped around his chest, attempting to keep himself together because it felt like he was getting blown apart.

His heart.

It was...

_Beating._

He rolled to his side and screamed to ground, trying to muffle the cries.

Hades grew anxious. He had not heard him silent in days.

Smoothly, he rose to check his son.

He opened the door and looked to the bed, only to find it empty.

_Fear._

Where had his son gone?

He could not get up and leave!

Had someone with a distaste for himself come in and taken his son?

The thought tore his heart apart.

_Agony._

It racked his own body as he ran to the bed and moved the silk covers.

_Empty._

He was ready to call in the guards and send out a search when he heard a set of screams so powerful it sent a shiver down his own spine. It was worse than any he had ever heard before.

They were coming from the other side of the bed.

He moved around to the other side, only to see his son curled in to a ball on the floor.

Blood was around him and pain contorted his features in to a nearly unrecognizable mask.

It killed him inside.

Gently he lifted the boy and placed him on to the bed.

He would have touched his face, smoothed his hair, had he not seen those similar obsidian eyes staring at him in despair and question.

To him they were blaming him.

He gave a stoic glance before turning and leaving.

Once the door shut he stood outside the room and sighed, a heartbroken expression on his normally placid features.

He waited outside of there for a few minutes, just listening to the screams before going to fetch a maid. He would send her to give Nico some nectar.

Today is the day the pain would end.

Today Nico would be...

_Dead._

_"Pain, pain is all he wants._  
_And hate, yes hate._  
_We shall never forget and never forgive._  
_And never ever fear._  
_Fear is for the enemy._  
_Fear and bullets."_

_-Fear and Bullets by Trust Obey_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, any of the characters, quotes, or The Crow.**_

_**Formatting and content inspired from The Crow by James O'Barr and Dark Angel by Ryan Corven **_

The answer to the voice, if it's not obvious now, is Nyx.

If you think she sounds Mary-Sue, well then sorry. Descriptions claim her to be exceptionally powerful and beautiful. Any yes, there are tales where Hypnos, per request of Hera, would make Zeus fall asleep. Hypnos is also known to agitate Zeus then hide behind Nyx. Nyx is so powerful, being a primordial deity, that even Zeus fears her and does not want her wrath set upon him. If Zeus fears her, I'd imagine Nico would too.

NO, Nyx was not coming on to Nico. You'll see what she did next part.

NO, Nico does not like Nyx. He thinks she is good looking.

Hades is upset over the pain Nico is going through and yes, he feels like Nico is blaming him. Nico is blaming himself for being weak. They're both kind of masochistic. Nico more so than Hades.

To clarify things, when Nico is with Nyx time is slower. So what feels like minutes can be hours, days, weeks, etc.

Referring to Nico dying, well read my disclaimer. There's a hint. If you get it then...Well congratulations. I'm proud you know. I favor it quite a bit.

**Sorry if this does not meet your expectations, I know it does not meet mine. Also, I apologize that the eloquence is less than basic. I will probably go back and work on it in the future. I want to get this out before the week was over. Yes, I know what complete sentences are. I like using choppy sentences. It adds, in my opinion, emotion and effect to it.**

To The Occasional Pessimist _(Not quite sure if you would rather me use your pen name or real.) _Thank you again for such an amazing review! It genuinely makes me happy to read (and re-read) your reviews. Sorry you did not get the question right, though I will consider writing that one shot regardless. I answered your message, by the way ;]

To greatwriterofstories, thank you! And you'll see what he will do at camp very shortly. I'm one to write about vindication quite a bit.

To AM83220, it's no problem really, I enjoy responding to my reviews. I like to show I appreciate them some how.

Question to my readers: Would you all rather that I don't explain the chapter and/or respond to the reviews to shorten the A/N? Or do you like them? I would love to hear your input.

Reviews, CC, etc. welcome.


	3. Part Three: I R O N Y

**The Ghost King Chronicles**

_"I have felt the wind of the wing of madness pass over me."  
-Charles Beaudelaire _

**C o n t e n t s**

Part O N E:

_PAIN_

Part T W O:

_FEAR_

Part T H R E E:

_IRONY_

Part F O U R:

_DESPAIR_

Part F I V E:

_DEATH_

_**I R O N Y**_

_My fury shall be poured out upon this place, ... and it shall burn, and  
shall not be quenched.  
-Jeremiah 7:20 _

_Fire._

It coursed through his icy veins and consumed every mortal inch of him in its manic grip.

He could feel the tongue of that searing snake flicking against his innards rapaciously.

Slowly, it made its way to his abdomen and curled in upon itself, as if taking a well-deserved rest.

The heat intensified tenfold but did not seem to make a sign of movement. It welled up in the pit of his stomach; growing brighter and hotter as the seconds ticked slowly by.

It was an explosion getting ready to blow. It was _a_ _time bomb_.

_Tick_

He felt as if he was being pulled apart at the seams.

_Tick_

Oh he could even swear that the flames began pouring out of the ripped pieces of canvas he meagerly called skin. Surely someone will see!

_Boom_

Just like that he could feel the most intense wave of heat shoot through every cell his body contained.

A scream tore from his throat and blood spurted from his mouth; choking him, drowning him.

Did any hear him?

Or was it too loud, too high, for even divine ears to pick up?

It felt like it.

Did a vessel pop in his throat? Perhaps. Did his sight turn red? Maybe. Did he dig his nails so deep into his sides that there would be scars left? There's a chance. Did any of it matter right now? Of course not.

Slowly, so very slowly, the pain ebbed away like the waves of the ocean during low tide.

Further and further back they recedded until nothing was left.

_Nothing._

Nothing but...

_Ice._

A sudden and furious blast of arctic wind seemed to blow through his very being.

The inexplicable change in temperatures seemed bent on breaking down his body, mind, and soul.

A distant memory chirped in the depths of his mind. A common knowledge ocurrance in society.

_Extreme Temperatures._

If one were to take a red hot piece of glass and drop it into a pool of ice cold water the chances of it cracking or breaking were extremely high.

_Cracking._

It felt like his physique was starting to fracture into shards of irrecoverable rubble.

_Breaking._

Like a creeping fog, he felt a certain bitter and foul mist encroaching on his mind. A horrendous disease.

_Terminal._

It would seep into the crevices of his brain and taint the neurons.

A slow creeping death.

But, he knew he would not die.

_Could not die._

Would be forced to live.

To live with _this._

This...

_Insanity._

The acrid vapor seemed to crawl into his mouth; leaving a pungent taste lingering as the aftermath.

The insanity, as he so assumed it to be insanity, did not rob his of his thoughts and mind as he would have thought.

Or had it?

Were it not the case in many insane beings that they claim sanity, whereas the sane ones falsified their own stability under scrutiny?

He did not want to think of it.

He _would not_ think of it.

He was adamant.

Surely he had not lost his wit for he still thought the thoughts as he previously did.

Or was that how it started?

His mind toiled while his body shivered furiously against the intense chill.

Perhaps that was the purpose.

To break him down.

Build him up.

Remold him.

To be their own.

To be...

_Perfect._

Had he found himself even capable of such a simple gesture he surely would have snorted at such a ridiculous notion.

Him..._perfect? _HA!

If there was one thing he was absolutely certain about, it was that Nico di Angelo was not, is not, and never will be...

_Perfect._

The very thought of such an atrocious word left a slowly churning hate boiling beneath the remains of his flesh.

There was no such thing as perfection.

Every-fucking-body had their flaws and it did not matter who you were or what lofty throne you sat upon, even you were damaged.

He clenched his teeth with such might he could feel the gums pulsate and bleed.

It only added to the pool of crimson the continuously flowed from the lacerated flesh of his larynx.

Every so often he'd begin to suffocate on his life force.

Horrible, guttural hacks wrenched the blood from his mouth and sent it splattering across the dark linen beneath his body.

Cesspools of the liquid formed around his face.

It was sticky and hot against his immensely cold features. An almost welcomed relief.

He gasped, short quick breaths. The stuttering of his heart and pain in his lungs calming marginally. The congestion built up in his throat gave a harsh, weezing sound as he so eagerly inhaled mouthfuls of the frigid oxygen.

With even the slightest of movements he heard cracking, and he momentarily became frightened it actually _was_ his flesh breaking apart.

Slowly, his red-hazed eyes crept open and down his blackened figure. He seemed to glisten under the flickering light of the fires.

So very carefully he moved his arm and was quite relieved to see it was not his skin that cleaved, but rather ice.

It confused him momentarily though he did not focus on it long.

His body slowly began to end it's fits of shaking and a warmth began to creep up his legs.

It was not searing like the previous heat, but a soothing warmth.

His heart began to relax and his breathing slowed. The pain in his throat seemed to numb as his mind grew fuzzy.

_Sleep._

He just wanted to sleep.

Just lay down and sleep...

_Forever._

Another distant, more urgent memory nagged his increasingly bleary mind.

Something about the warmth after cold.

Something...

_Dangerous._

What was the name of it again?

His bloodied and busted lips contorted into a grimace of slight irritation.

It was _right there._

He could almost _feel _it.

It banged at the doors of his mind exigently.

Nico was there, struggling to let it in, yet he was missing the key.

Bit by bit it seemed to die down as he grew more and more comfortable.

The closest he got was part of a word.

_Hypo-_

Then, he faded to a halcyon black.

His breathing slowed to an alarmingly sluggish pace.

Normally pallid lips, swollen and bruised in state, held a blue tinge in pigmentation.

Warmth forgotten, his body surrendered to the cold.

They stirred nowhere else. They bit no other hide. They only held Nico in their enervating embrace.

His limbs were far passed numb as the heat retreated to his center in a fruitless attempt to forfend the vital organs.

The very body he inhabited seemed to buckle under the stress and sadistic torment thrown at him from this supposed 'gift'.

_Gift._

Had it truly been a gift? Or a simple way to rid his son and get one last jibe in at his expense? He did not put it past his father to do such a thing.

But...and he despised to feel such a way, his father was not so depraved and beastial as to do such a thing as kill his own child.

The last living reminder of _Maria._

No matter how much Nico wished to find an excuse as to why his father was so brazen to him, he could not find a suitable cause.

Except...

_Himself._

It was all his own fault.

_'I'm just not good enough,'_ he thought many times over.

He was a _weakling_, despite his physical strength.

He was _foolish_, despite his exceedingly sharp intelligence.

He was _worthless_, despite his Godly blood.

_Never_ would he amount to the glory of Percy.

_Never_ would he reach even a fraction of the intelligence of Annabeth.

_Never_ would he be as loyal as Grover.

_Never _would he be as valiant as Thalia.

And _never_ would he be worth an ounce of love.

The only thing he would amount to is a pound of maimed flesh.

_'Perhaps,'_ he absently wondered, _'if I'm lucky I can go in the heroic manner Bianca did.'_

Of course he did not mean electrocution at the hand, or rather _foot_, of a robot.

Rather, he wanted to die in honor saving a comrade.

It seemed the best way to go.

The _only _way to go if he had any hopes of getting into Elysium and being with his sister once more.

Besides, they threw amazing parties.

Down in the lavish throne room, Lord Hades and Lady Persephone were seated in their thrones.

Each had their own personal touch that encased their seats.

Hades' was obsidian edged in gold and embellished with intricate designs depicting varying scenes of death and the underworld. The scenes seemed to move on their own accord.

Persephone's was a soft and pale green with flowers winding up the legs and back of the chair, leaving near to no room inbetween each other's petals. The colors seemed to change as did the species of flower according to the mood of the Lady herself.

Currently they were wilting pointsettas varying from a deep crimson to sickly ivory. Leaves fell only to dissapate before they had a chance to touch the cold marble floors.

Hades sat in quiet discontent upon his throne.

His jaw was clenched in unease. A fist propped up his chin while his remaining hand laid complacently on the arm rest.

Persephone was still petrubed with the turn of events put into motion on his son's birthday.

Now a silence hung uncomfortably in the air.

He could feel the intense distaste rolling from his queen.

Why was it so wrong to reward his son? After all, he only worked to please her.

But of course he did not expect anything less.

He had, after all, kidnapped her and forced her to live beside him for half a year for eternity.

Then something aroused his attention.

Worry began to spread through him like an infection.

It was not normal.

There was something wrong.

There was...

_Silence._

With a swift glance to his consort, he frowned. She was waiting for him to run like a troubled puppy to Nico. Oh how she got a grim satisfaction out of seeing something finally distress him aside from that inferior mortal Maria and her little wench, Bianca.

Secretly, she felt a surge of jealousy and ire at the Italian woman who inexplicably wooed Hades.

_How could such a mundane and disposable creature enrapture him so?_

He was such an austere man. It almost seemed as if he were unattainable by his preferences and standards. Yet, some mere human caught him in her web.

Well, she was gone now, thanks to her Uncle. Oh and was she happy for that.

_She_ was the only woman allowed to seize this God's heart.

Unfortunately she knew this was not possible. Even after death, Hades still fawned and mourned who was once his mistress, along with their daughter.

All that was left living of that..._trouble_...was the boy.

_Nico_.

She detested him almost as much as she detested his mother.

How _dare_ he gain such power without even a thought of her!

He was but a half-blood, not a God. It should not be the offspring of another woman that gains the crown. It should be _her_ offspring! They were more deserving than _him._

But still, she could not help but pity the poor boy. It was only a small, almost non-existent part of her that felt bad for him. He went through the torments of both the mortals, demi-gods, _and_ Gods. She was guilty of harassing him and he gave no retaliation even though he so wished to. The feelings of vindication rolled from his young, lanky frame, but he did well to contain them.

She seen the pain and felt the hideous self-loathing that plagued his mind. How he blamed himself for every fault of others was a grave mindset he possessed. Somewhere deep within the fortified walls of her own heart she felt he did not deserve her ire, yet that part was drowned out by the blaring envy that prickled her veins like the spines of a rose's stem.

She seen the slight shift in Hades' demeanor and watched him carefully from her peripheral.

He was tensed and a frown marred his stony features. Lifting one pale hand he gestured a shade forth. It hesitantly stepped up and bowed deeply, waiting permission to rise. Instead, it heard the cold and velvety lyrics that seeped from the mouth of it's Lord.

_"Go forth to Nico's room and check on the boy. He is being abnormally silent."_

The shade, without making eye contact, nodded in respect and vanished from site.

It appeared a moment later in the dark room of the boy. Green-flamed torches illuminated the room and bathed it in an eerie emerald light. Hesitantly It came closer to the bed where a slumbering figure lay.

The form of the familiar son of Hades lay mostly encased in black sheets. It was about to leave, seeing the boy was just sleeping, when something caught the spirit's hollowed eyes.

_Blood._

The dried crimson stood out grotesquely against the boy's pallor.

It ghosted closer, scrutinizing every inch of the boy. What It saw caused fear to rise rapidly in the shade's mind.

Nico was a blighting pale shade with blue tinging his extremities. His frame was mutilated and bloodied and his breathing was dangerously slow.

Wide-eyed and shaken, It instantly vanished only to reappear before Lord Hades once more.

With an urgent bow It spoke swiftly. The speed and pitch of the tone made it almost indecipherable to make out what It was saying.

_"My Lord, h-he's not fairing well. He's blue..and...and he's hardly breathing. I-I fear for the young Prince."_

Hades' features immediately shifted from worried to alarmed and angry.

He stood swiftly from his throne. The intense waves of fear and darkness he was accustomed to throwing off increased rapidly, sending the shade into a weeping, tearless mess on the black floor. Even Persephone herself flinched back and shuddered from the terrible feelings. With not a word nor a glance Hades vanished in a flash of golden light to his son's room.

Upon arrival he wasted no time dillydallying and immediately rushed to the bedside. His jaw set and those abysmal eyes hardened at the sight of Nico's condition.

Just as the shade said, he was discolored and his breathing was almost too light to notice. Hades brought his hand up to one of his son's sickly colored hands, that was curled across his abdomen, and pressed on his flesh gingerly. With a shock he jerked back from the touch and looked upon the boy in puzzlement. His temperature was even lower than Hades' was.

He tentatively reach out in his mind to feel the strength of Nico's soul. To his pleasant surprise his soul thrummed on strong despite his poor condition. It should have been weak, near death, but it was similar to that of a man at his peak condition. His body seemed to be fading, but not his soul.

In an attempt to heal the physical portion of the child he snapped his fingers, causing a small canteen of nectar to appear in his grasp. He gently lifted Nico's head and touched the metal rim to his ice cold lips. With a bit of anxiousness, he tilted the container and watched as the liquid poured into the unresponsive mouth. It healed the wounds on the lips almost instantaneously, as well as the lacerations in his throat and gums. That was _all_ it did.

He seen no improvement in the condition of the body aside from the minor injuries. Bruises healed and cuts faded, but he still remained cool to the touch and blue in the limbs and lips. He grimaced before striding smoothly over to a chair that was currently occupying the area in front of Nico's desk. Sitting down, he thought about the situation carefully.

It was true; he knew his son would travel from death to life, but he was not prepared for such a drastic turn of events. This was his first, and hopefully last, time ascending a demigod to power, so he only had passing knowledge as to what would happen during this ritual.

He pondered calling forth his nephew, Apollo, for a moment. He was, after all, the god of both Plague and Healing. Though that thought was quickly banished. No other deities, aside from Hermes and Persephone, were granted passage to and from the Underworld. Demeter had a habit of coming in unannounced anyways, much to his chagrin. Erebus and Thanatos resided within the Underworld and he'd be a fool to deny Nyx acceptance to visit her husband.

So, patiently he watched and waited.

Time ticked by slowly.

There was no change.

Still he waited.

It seemed as if the minutes had been stretched to hours and the hours lengthed to days.

His patience was wearing thin.

He so wished to just snap the boy awake.

He could not.

_Movement._

There!

On the bed!

He caught the slightest inkling of movements within the sheets.

The soft rubbing of fabric and a groan graced his ears.

Swifter than he would dub proper he rose from the chair and stood at the bedside, looming over the moving figure.

Slowly the blue began to retreat and color, _or what he had of color_, returned to his features. Those familiar eyes did not open yet, though.

He realized his anxiety and immediately placated himself. His face cooled to the dauntless expression as accustomed. There was no way he would want Nico to see how truly frightened he was about his condition. That was completely intolerable.

Nico rolled his head from side to side, as if having a nightmare. His features scrunched up in frustration and a sort of groaning growl murmured through his lips.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open.

He looked around curiously before his sight landed on his impressive father. Mentally, he shrunk back from that intrusive stare. The cold look that graced his features only furthered Nico's assumption that he had done wrong.

Yet...

There was no reprimanding or punishment.

He just...stood there.

Stood there and watched him.

Watching for something...

_Examining._

In an attempt to make-up for whatever he believed he had done wrong, he let his expression slide into an eerily similar impassive look.

Without warning, Hades broke the silence. His voice was just as corrosive and sleek as before.

_"You wake, finally. How long it took you to rise from your stupor is remarkable. There is no time to waste. Get up. You must deliver a message for me."_

There was no room for objection or comments. It was a command and he must heed it.

Gingerly, he rose to a sitting position and was secretly excited to find that there was not a trace of pain to be felt.

He deftly got up from the bed and kneelled before his father for a moment before rising.

Hades noted a few physical changed that seemed to occur during his shift.

His features were sharper, more defined, and his upper body broadened a bit. He appeared a little taller and his muscles were a little larger. Even his _eyes_ seemed a little darker and his skin a little paler.

It was like the metamorphosis of a caterpillar.

He went from just a demigod to...

_A God._

Perhaps not in the same sense that Hades was a God or even like Nike was a Goddess, though he was closer than any half-blood out there to becoming a deity.

With silky words and frigid tones, Nico spoke. There was a strength and power in his voice that was not there before. It was almost frightening.

_"Yes, my Lord. What is the message, and to who is it to be delivered to?"_

Hades waited a moment, coming up with a way to deliver the message and spread the news of Nico's rise without alerting Nico to his intentions.

_"I would like you to tell Chiron and Dionysus one word. 'Ascended'. That is it. Now go."_

Without hesitating, Hades disappeared in a flash of Godly light.

It was then that Nico realized that seeing the true form of a God did not kill him.

At worst it sent a prickle across his skin in discomfort.

That fact excited him.

_Scared him._

It was nearly impossible for any being, aside from the deities, to survive even a glance at godly forms.

He shook off the sensation and called for the shadows. Oh, he did not want to hesitate and risk the ire of Hades.

The shadows seemed to jump to him swifter in bigger portions than before. A small grin curled the edge of his lips. So far he was enjoying this upgrade. Though he would never lose sight of his true purpose.

He swiftly stepped into the shadows. For a moment he waited for the darkness to drain some of his energy as payment for his crossing but he felt nothing tugging at him. Only the caressing darkness that enveloped his body and the distant sound of monsters growling in the shadows accompanied him. Though he could swear he heard a faint, mischievious giggle somewhere in the black.

After remembering one of the perks of his duties, the easy travelling, he went forward swiftly and reached the region he desired.

_Camp Half-Blood._

Those familiar shadows beckoned to him.

With enviable prowess he slid from the dark portal to find himself just beside the dining pavilion.

All eyes on him.

Campers stared at the intimidating black-clad figure with wide eyes and varying looks.

Many had never seen the son of Hades, nor how he travelled.

The shadows seemed to gather in one spot, despite the sun. It was positioned in an impossible spot. There was no overhanging eaves to cast a shadow at that particular location.

To them, it was odd.

_Frightening._

Some of the younger and easily frightened campers shrieked while others gasped, though the majority just stared on in wonder.

Few, very few, did not both to even look.

He recognized some of those faces, though they were none he wished to see.

Then he noticed how the darkness seemed to surround him beyond what his own shadow would.

_That_ what was meant when he spoke the oath, saying _'I banish the light and welcome the shadows.'_

_Eternal darkness._

It would trail him for eternity, no matter his location.

The dark would always be thickest around him.

He shrugged it off mentally.

With an indifferent glance to the campers he strolled over to the head table. His steps were absolutely silent. Not even the rustling of his clothes could be heard. It was like he was but a ghost himself.

Eyes as dark as Tartarus looked from Mr. D to Chiron.

Both watched him apprehensively.

Then, Mr. D glanced up and those violet eyes caught sight of the thorned crown and almost paled. His features fell the slightest bit, almost unnoticeable to untrained eyes.

Chiron noticed.

He looked curiously at Dionysus before looking to Nico.

He also noticed the physical changes. Then, the moving wisps of shadows across the barbs of Nico's crown caught his attention. That gave similar results.

Finally, Nico reached the table and bowed deeply before being flagged back upright.

Chiron spoke in wise, cautious tones.

_"Welcome back Nico. May I inquire as to what this visit entails?"_

That was one more thing Chiron knew.

He knew Nico despised Camp Half-Blood.

It was almost infuriating how much Chiron knew.

That was one thing Nico respected about him most.

His voice was fear in the form of sound. Absolutely cold and calm. You could almost hear the scathing and eerie echo his voice now created.

It was pure, unaltered...

_Terror._

Campers physically flinched from the quality his voice brought. It aroused primal fears in their inner most being, yet they could not understand why.

_"My father has sent me to give both you and Mr. D a message. 'Ascended.' That was all he said."_

Both nodded in understanding.

Their eyes furtively met for a moment, as if communicating a secret message, before they looked back to Nico's awaiting figure.

_"Alright, thank you Nico. That is a very important message."_

Chiron spoke, the apprehension was replaced with a sort of pride and a grin began to form on his lips despite the fear that ebbed in his eyes.

It puzzled him for only a moment as to why fear would be injected into the wise director just at his presence when another thought ocurred to him.

_The Crown._

It incited fear, just as his father's helm did.

He did not enjoy scaring others that did not deserve it. Most certainly not Chiron!

With a set of his jaw and another bow respectively he turned and conjured more shadows to report back home.

_Protests._

There was a voice that stopped him.

It was a completely unexpected voice.

It held no resentment, but rather an edge of urgency.

It was...

_Dionysus._

Mr. D rose from his seat. Those usually snarky words were cut back and transformed into a sincere request.

Nico was stunned.

He halted immediately and turned back to the God and camp director with curious eyes.

_"Wait! Nicolo, do not leave just yet. Remain here for a bit. We have a...ah...shortage of trainers. What with your experience and...prowess...it would be beneficial to the other nuisances if you could give them some tips on how to survive."_

It was not only the most Mr.D had spoken to him that he could recall, but also one of the kindest things, aside from the purposeful butchering of his name.

He did not mind.

What he _did _mind, however, was staying in the camp to teach ignorant brats.

He could already see the shock wear off and the judgemental expressions envelope their faces.

With a look of distaste, he swept over the entirity of the pavilion.

Many campers were missing, due to winter, though there were quite a few still left varying from table to table. The only empty tables were, naturally, Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Artemis, and Hades' tables. He was actually glad to see no other 'siblings' stationed at that table. The only sibling he cared to have was gone.

He thought over the proposition for a moment. Though he did not want to stay he would not outright refuse a god's demands. Grinning the slightest bit he nodded to Mr. D before turning back to the tables with a passive expression.

_"Alright, here's a few tips on how not to get killed. One: Don't piss off the Gods. A fairly simple concept but some, like my cousin, have a knack for doing it. Two: Try not to attack a monster unarmed. You'd be foolish to try unless you have powers. Three: No more than three to a quest. One will always die. Four: Don't bathe with a plugged-in toaster. Five: Ladies, never, ever, __**ever**__ join the Hunters of Artemis. It might seem all fun and shit, but it isn't worth it. Trust me. My apologise Lady Artemis."_

With that he turned on his heel and headed back for the portal.

Suddenly, he felt something, or rather _somethings_, slithering up his legs and holding him in place.

_Vines._

He looked to Dionysus curiously and seen an unhappy face staring back at him.

With a smirk he looked back to the campers.

_"Number one looks like that."_

There were only a few snickers at the remark as Dionysus drew closer to his halted form.

He glanced one last time at the vines and with a thought they withered up and wilted away into dust.

Into...

_Nothing._

Mr. D faltered for a moment before coming closer and pausing a few feet from Nico. His eyes flicked to the crown. The same look of terror flashed in those oddly hued eyes.

Nico did not mind the fear he brought to Mr. D.

It amused him.

_"Nick, perhaps you misunderstood me. That was a command. Not a request. You are to stay here until further notice. Understand?"_

Nico grimaced at his lack of options and nodded slowly.

Mr.D gave him one last glance before sitting back in his original spot. That tiger striped shirt and purple running shoes still clashed horrendously. A diet coke appeared in his hand as he eyed Nico. With a wave of his hand he dismissed him.

Nico ground his teeth as he turned back around, faced with the pointed stares of the campers. Many obnoxious orange shirts stood out in the crowd. The greek words printed across the clothing spelling out 'Camp Half-Blood'.

He left without a word or motion to the residents.

Their stares burned into his retreating figure with an aching fury.

His first stop would have been his cabin. Oh and he would have locked himself inside for days if he so felt the urge to. Right now, though, he wanted to test his improved sword.

The upgrades featured were never told nor explained and dared not ask.

Instead of shadow travelling he felt the need to exercise his legs. For so long now he was confined to a bed or a floor in sheer pain. It felt good to move and stretch his muscles once more.

He made it down to the training fields without a hitch. There were no annoying children to run around him or spying girls to giggle when they thought he did something attractive.

Yes, it has happened, unfortunately.

There was a reason he no longer had windows within reach of prying eyes.

His stride was powerful and deathly silent as he approached a dummy that had yet to be mutilated.

It was no living being, which his sword thrived off of, but perhaps it held other qualities.

He unsheathed his sword and with steady motions stood in fighting stance.

A quiet moment stretched on as he seemingly sized up the 'opponent'.

Then, he began.

With just a quick slice the blade tore away at the fabric of the dummy.

He watched in horror as the cloth singed, then sizzled.

Further and further back the black line of the wound recedded.

It seemed to be dissolving the thread.

_Eating_ the dummy.

Then, without warning, little green flames formed and quickly consumed the fabric.

_Greek Fire._

For a moment he was stunned a terrified at what his sword had done.

Though a part of him enjoyed it.

Knew it was useful.

Knew it was...

_Lethal._

Though he had to be sure not to use it during playful combat with a camper.

Explaining to others that his sword made the camper catch on fire and inevitably die would not go over well.

With that, he sheathed his sword and stared at the charred remains of the dummy.

What a terribly wonderful upgrade.

He felt irritation stir within him as the distant shouts of playing demigods caught his attention.

Why did he have to stay _here?_

Sighing, he looked off into the distance before an idea struck.

He had to inform his father of his current predicament without leaving. There were no rainbows around and Percy wasn't here to make one.

That was when he remembered how shades were used to contact others in the Underworld.

With some concentration he snapped his fingers and a shade immediately appeared before him.

It was startled at the sudden summoning and looked to Nico. Fear and awe took place on It's empty features. A bow was given to It's king.

_"Rise, shade. I want you to go to Lord Hades and inform him that I am currently unable to return. Mr.D has 'requested' my presence here."_

It gave a stricken nod before dissolving into the grass.

_"Hey, little prince! HEY FREAK! Talkin' to ghosts 'cus you ain't got no real friends?"_

The obnoxious bellow came from the crest of the hill he had descended down just moments ago.

Black eyes immediately went to the bulky figure of a male standing so haughtily at the top of the hill.

Even from this distance he could see a smirk on the lips and knew it to be an Ares kid.

Now, he knew not all Ares kids were pretentious jackasses. Most were, but not all.

With a slight snarl he turned fully to face the kid.

He had begun descending as well; coming to meet down in the arena.

A couple kids followed close behind.

One figure he knew.

Another member of the Ares cabin.

Clarisse's younger half-brother and new leader of the Ares cabin.

He fought beside the kid in the war.

In the Last Stand.

He was one of the acquaintances.

One of the survivors.

One of the...

_Heros._

Who this new kid was, he did not know, nor did he care to. Already the brute earned Nico's wrath.

That was a terrible thing to earn.

With an over-confident stride, he came to the front of Nico and paused.

The Ares cabin leader paused just behind him. Anger was pointed to the hedonistic kid and knowing was shown to Nico. He gave a slight nod, which Nico returned. Then he spoke.

_"Back off, Nico's cool."_

The now disgruntled camper looked to his leader with disgust. His voice portrayed such emotions.

_"What, you're sticking up for the freak now?"_

He was just out of range of the helmet's powers.

The acquantince sneered at the kid and pushed him with irritation.

_"No! I'm sayin' you're gonna get your ass kicked from the Underworld and back if ya try him. I don't need that shame on the Ares cabin!"_

The two looked ready to scrap and Nico just stood by, impassive to the whole situation.

_"Yeah, sure. Don't tell me who to fight! This punk won't beat me!"_

Nico rolled his eyes in slight aggravation.

This was both an insult and a waste of his time.

_"Look, if you want to fight. Let's fight. You're wasting my time right now and it's starting to piss me off."_

The abject terror of the words sent all the spectator's spines tingling and flesh crawling. His eyes were pits of unfathomable darkness and intelligence. Or was it insanity?

Before the kid could respond Nico had shadow travelled to the tool shed to grab a celestial bronze sword. Despite how much he would enjoy watching the ignorant fool burn, he couldn't afford to have not only Ares angry with him but all of camp.

He was back almost as soon as he left. People jumped at his sudden vanishing act.

The kid drew his sword and shield before walking back to a proper position.

He was now in range of the radiating powers of the barbed crown and the fear immediately seized his heart.

The blood seemed to drain from his features and his body tensed.

Nico tapped the crown twice.

Immediately it began to transform into his armor.

The barbs seemed to extend and wrap around his head and face. A mask now covered all but his eyes, nose, and lips. It appeared to be an ashen skull placed over top of Nico's head. The resemblance to a real skull was uncanny.

He felt a barb expand and creep down his spine. It sprouted more barbs that travelled down his arms and wrapped around his ribs in a perfect match to the bones. They transformed into the shapes of bones themselves. It stopped at the bottom of his lower back. Shadows seemed to creep around his body, encasing him in a sort of translucent, breathing flesh.

_Fear._

It overtook all the other people's minds.

A coy grin pulled his lips.

A choleric expression marred his features.

He was an intimidating creature.

Something so ferocious and primal about his very appearance caused unease to capture them all.

Another silence stretched on and no one made a hint of movement.

They simply...

_Stared._

With a dark look he spoke once more.

_"Well, are we going to fight?"_

The kid was now looking more than unwilling to step up to the imposing figure, but his pride forced him to go.

They stood before each other, weapons posed to attack.

As if a silent alarm was tripped they charged one another.

Nico lunged a fake attack before he deftly sidestepped, dodging the glinting bronze blade.

He swung his arm around and hit the male where the spine should be just below the protective armor covering his upper torso.

The kid stumbled before spinning back around, parrying the strike Nico delivered. With unexpected grace he swung the blade toward Nico's side.

It would have hit.

_Could_ have hit.

But...

_Didn't._

Instead it seemed to be stopped by the mist that shrouded around the ribs of the armor.

Nico grinned darkly before thrusting the hilt of the sword downward. The butt hit the kid's forearm fiercely. He hissed in pain and jumped back a bit. Nico then sent a roundhouse to his head, which made a sickeningly satisfying _'thump'. _

He fell hard and clutched his head in pain.

Blood seeped from the new wound bestowed upon him rightly.

A new desire swept through Nico unexpectedly.

He looked at the pitiful camper without remorse. Rather, he was angry.

_Very angry._

He was just like all the others.

Judgemental.

Rude.

Disgusting.

Hypocritical.

_Scarring._

It was people like _him _that caused Nico such torment.

Oh how Nico wanted to show him just how bad he hurts because of them.

Yet, no physical punishment could come close to he endured mentally and emotionally.

Still, some pain is better than no pain.

His fatal flaw wasn't grudges for nothing.

With a wave of his free hand shadows immediately formed around the boy.

Tendrils reached out to wrap around his hands and feet, yanking them straight.

He screamed.

He screamed and screamed.

He trashed and cried.

Nico felt nothing but hate.

He pleaded and threatened.

Nico felt nothing but pain.

He whimpered and prayed.

Nico now stood over him.

Campers were frozen in their spots by terror.

Finally one, his acquaintance, broke from the stupor and tried to stop him.

He did not get any closer than the boundaries of the radiation.

Nico knelt down, his knee digging into the cavity of the kid's chest.

He was bigger than Nico in brawn, though Nico had him in height.

They seemed about the same age.

He wrapped an icy hand around the soft flesh of his chin and jerked the head to face him.

He felt a power welling deep inside him. Something better than physical pain. Far better.

_Fear._

_"Look. Now."_

The kid reluctantly obeyed. His eyes met Nico's and Nico felt a surge of malicious power shoot through his veins.

The kid's eyes immediately widened and seemed to glaze over. He began to thrash around and scream at no one.

_"No! NO MOM! NO, DON'T GO! MOM! DON'T LEAVE ME! Don't...don't leave me..."_

He began shaking a sobbing, reliving his worst memory.

His most feared moment.

It distantly reminded Nico of his own mother and he instantly felt longing to have her back to comfort him.

The anger still lived on in his heart.

It was a deep seeded evil that would grow and bloom into a terrifying monster.

For now, though, he controlled it. For the most part, that is.

He grimaced at the boy before retracting the make-shift shackles and shadow travelling to the somewhat comforting room of his cabin.

A feeling, perhaps it was foresight, informed him that for whatever period of time he resided within the boundaries of this camp, would only grow worse.

_Violent._

_Bloody._

_And he put on the garments of vengeance for clothing... According to  
their deeds, accordingly he will repay, fury to his adversaries, recompence  
to his enemies.  
-Isaiah 59:17-18 _

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, any of the characters, quotes, or The Crow.**_

_**Formatting and content inspired from The Crow by James O'Barr and Dark Angel by Ryan Corven **_

**A/N**

Reviews, CC, etc. welcome.

Alright, so this is the **OFFICIAL UNOFFICIAL **third installment of this story.

Shitty, yes.

**BUT!** I intend to come back, check it over, and tweak it.

I'm just _extremely _worn out from school, work, and working on a senior project.

I wanted to get this out to you all before I die of guilt.

Sorry for the wait and terrible results of the wait.

I'm running on E right now with energy.

There's a _lot _of mistakes in this chapter that I hope to fix when I have the energy to.

My senior project is writing an original work of fiction.

Would any be interested if I were to put it up on fictionpress?

I have no synopsis. But, it's about a 17 year old male with drug problems, serious mental disorders _(And I don't mean learning disorders)_ that gets arrested at a failed, and nearly lethal, B&E _(Breaking & Entering)_.

Then he's sent to an asylum for Criminally Insane Youth. He meets quite the motley crew there. They all have thier own, and many rather violent, disorders such as Cannibalism, Renfield Syndrome, Sadism, Psychosis, Schizophrenia, Cotard's Syndrome, Kleptomania, etc.

The orderlies and warden go missing. They manage to escape thanks to an inmate with a talent for picking locks. Something else I haven't decided on will happen where they run in to a gang boss or some shit like that. They will also stop by his friend's house, who happens to be a drug dealer. There might be other inopportune stops, like a strip club, the police station, a diner, etc.

Anyways, I'll update this author's note later. I'm tired.


	4. Part Four: D E S P A I R

**The Ghost King Chronicles**

_"I'm better alone now_

_See I'm torn from my mistakes_

_And I stop believing that I could ever make things change"_

_-'Monster You Made' by Pop Evil_

**C o n t e n t s**

Part O N E:

_PAIN_

Part T W O:

_FEAR_

Part T H R E E:

_IRONY_

Part F O U R:

_DESPAIR_

Part F I V E:

_DEATH_

_**D E S P A I R**_

_"These are the tears_

_The tears we shed_

_This is the fear_

_This is the dread_

_These are the contents of my head."_

_-Annie Lennox_

_Empty._

The black cabin was so horrifically silent. Nico could almost hear the deafening buzz of the subtle energy within the airwaves rise in tempo. Normal, he realized, when one is left to dwell within the melancholic contents of their head. No life dwelling around could beat down the slow creeping dread filling his lungs like lead weights. Nothing could stop the terror slithering across his flesh from tasting his breath and consuming his rationality. Paranoia began to rise in his throat like bile, ready to expel itself at any given moment.

He had just assaulted another camper with little thought and no compassion. The only regret nagging at the emotional core of his being was that he had let down his sister.

He let her down.

_Rage._

Could he never do anything right? Was he doomed to a pitiful existence riddled with disappointment and failure? He so wished it was not meant to be so, but the doubt wiggled in his mind, screaming confirmation and incinerating whatever hope his imagination conjured.

No, Nico was utterly useless. What was he meant to do in life other than serve his father? There was nothing waiting for him in the land of the living and he had no desire for what awaited him in the realm of shades.

He bit his lip, contemplating what horrors awaited him outside that heavy obsidian door. Surely he'd be met with retaliation for what he did to that oafish son of Ares! Oh he knew that others wished to harm that boy as well. Because it was Nico, that damned son of Hades, that attacked the kid first, well now it was an unspeakable crime.

_Pathetic._

He felt so utterly pathetic curled up on his ashen colored bed, leaning against the smooth black stone wall. Dark eyes scanned the cabin he hid in so often. None of the camp, except for Percy and Annabeth, took interest in helping Nico build his cabin. He was left to summon skeletal minions to help erect this towering nightmare. Annabeth helped, of course, with the architecture and finer details of the blueprints while Percy had helped with the more physical aspects of the building. Even if he attempted to keep it well hidden, he was so very grateful for their help.

_It only furthered his pain._

When he decorated the inside he had put it to his liking. Unlike the other cabins, there were nearly no beds. He had put in two bunk beds at the opposing side of the room, more so as a precaution rather than hope. His bed, however, was a single. There was no way, even if he did gain a sibling, that he would want to _bunk_ with them. No thank you, he liked his privacy.

He sighed in exasperation as he glanced around the impersonal and cold room. There was nothing truly welcoming in here, despite the fact he created it for himself. Even with his efforts, he could never make himself feel welcomed. Dark eyes slid shut as he simply sat and cut away his sense of self.

_Drifting._

In an attempt to burn away his pain he meditated. It was something he learned from a wise old shade many months ago. He was skeptical at first, but was pleasantly shocked to realize how truly relaxing it felt to float away from the physical word and simply drift in the vast emptiness of silence. Many may find it foolish and weak, his meditation. They, however, did not realize just how well it did from keeping Nico from losing control of himself and potentially harming someone. He ignored their ignorance as best he could.

_Screaming._

He could hear screaming, mass hysteria, drilling through his calming procedure. It penetrated the thickness of his walls and he let out an irritated sigh before opening his eyes and listening closely. Alarms were sounding off, a loud, earth-shaking roar could be heard, and multiple terrified vocals screaming in a cacophony of chaos. Before he even had time to feel vindicative he was at his door, wrenching it open and jumping into the bright sun.

_Shock._

The scene before him was utter chaos. Campers scattered about, terrified and confused. He mentally corrected himself. _New _campers scattered about, terrified and confused. The older, more experienced ones had their weapons and shields drawn, running toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill, toward Thalia's tree. He wasted no time with the pathetic kids whimpering for their parents and dashed toward the action, ready to defend his turf alongside the others.

His heart pounded in his chest as he raced up the hill, simultaneously pressing the barbed crown and transforming it into the terrifying battle armor. What he saw when he got to the talus made him stop dead in his tracks. Fear seized his heart but was immediately subdued by his instinct to defend himself and the others. There stood one of the most vicious monsters he had ever seen. The creature had hair like Medusa; withering and snapping snakes, though this was much larger and so much more horrific. She was scaled and the lower half of this creature was of a dragon. Large, pointed wings protruded from her back and where her two halves met looked like a belt of constantly morphing vicious animal heads. Lions, bears, crocodiles, wolves...They snapped at any demigod getting close, trying to taste that sweet godling blood. The creature seemed to be speaking, but he could not understand for she talked in a language even older than Greek. It was low and rumbling; almost barbaric, yet he could _feel _the power of the language.

This creature, a monster nightmares were made of, was so ancient, so strong, he almost felt it was futile to try and fight her. That train of thought ended before it could be fully contemplated. He would battle this monster, and he would obliterate her just as Briares had so many years ago. If not, then he would die trying.

_Kampê_

She stood in her full glory. Two poisonous scimitars were held in each hand, slashing away at the demigods. Peleus even attempted to fight, though he was preoccupied with the Hellhounds that emerged from the shadows, keeping the guard dragon distracted. Chiron stood tall, wielding his bow and taking down _Empousai_ from long rang. The creatures attempted to charge through the barriers, but were held back by the strong magic. The _empousai_ were attempting to reach Thalia's tree and remove the Golden Fleece to weaken the boarders, but along with Chiron, the Apollo cabin helped take down those getting dangerously close with their expert archery skills. The cabin leader, Will Solace, Nico noted with mild fondness, was busy carrying away the injured demigods and healing them. Though Will was nearly twenty-three years old he remained in the camp to help train and heal the rest as one of the staff. He was, by far, the oldest camper there as well as one of the most respected. Will was one of the only campers to never say an ill word nor cast a hideous glance at Nico. Inside and out, Nico knew he was truly good and pure. That was why he was one of Nico's closest friends though they spoke little to never.

Just as Will wasted no time throwing himself in the path of danger to protect the younger, injured campers, Nico wasted no time throwing himself into the battle. He drew his long, Stygian sword and watched with bitter amusement as monsters flinched away at the sight. Many, upon sight of Nico crept away, fearing not only Nico but obeying their new master. Hellhounds whimpered, head down and pawing the ground like puppies while _empousai_ hissed, backing away and fleeing in resentment. Some, however, refused to acknowledge their leader and kept attacking. He sneered viciously at them before going on the offense.

The demigods looked both stunned and relieved at the sudden retreat of most of the monsters. He noticed one Hellhound in particular that was still attacking, but instead of attacking demigods, she was attacking the other monsters.

Mrs. O'Leary.

He smirked slightly before turning just in time to parry a strike made by an enraged _empousa._ Nico glared viciously, causing the monster to flinch almost comically. The shadows seemed to contract around the creature in a painful tourniquet. Fear blazed in those deadly eyes. She realized the mistake of her actions just as Nico thrust his blade through her abdomen. A deafening screech echoed from her throat as she began to dissolve. Instead of simply blowing away in golden dust, Greek fire consumed the remains like an explosion, causing heat to erupt in one loud burst before she was finally gone. The energy of her regenerating soul was drawn in by his cursed blade, making it thrum with energy. With little effort he stabbed the blade into the ground, causing the earth to shake as a large fissure opened up and swallowed any monster in its path. He did not notice the single camper trip at the sudden quake and tumble toward the crack leading to Tartarus. Only at the last moment did another catch him by the collar of the armor and yank him away from a certain, horrible death.

As he yanked his sword from the hearth the fissure sealed itself, leaving a hideous scar across the field. It was almost identical to the one at the pavilion. The one he made after vanquishing those skeletons to the Underworld. The one he made after he heard the news.

_His sister was dead._

Dead because she sacrificed herself for everyone else. The memory just enraged Nico further, propelled him to destroy every last one of those damned creatures trying to kill demigods. They were killing someone else's' sibling and he would not curse a single one of them with the pain he endured every waking moment.

As he slashed away, destroying every creature in his path, Greek fire erupted all around him and sprayed the ground. He ignored the flurry of movement as his fellow campers tried futilely to extinguish the deadly flames licking at the grass. No, his raging black eyes were fixated on the monster killing every godling who came within reach of her scimitars. Yes, he seen the withering bodies that lay bleeding and the buzzing in his ears reached a climax as their lives faded. It only furthered his anger. He could easily open another fissure, banish her to Tartarus immediately, but some sick sense of vindication held him back from that route. He wanted her to go up in flames, to feel the pain those dead demigods felt as her poisoned blades took their lives. Oh that creature would certainly pay with current life and he would ensure it was her most painful end yet.

He let out a loud yell, catching the demigods' and _Kampê's_ attention. With a wave of his hand the other demigods jumped away from their useless fight against the creature and allowed the powerful half-blood take the stage. Life seemed to halt as he paused before the monster and they sized each other up. She grinned viciously, a dangerous light dancing in her green eyes. A rumble was sounded as she spoke words he could not understand. He just let his being fall stoic and unreadable. A deadly cold look held his eyes as he stared her down before everything seemed to explode into chaos. He could tell she was elated at the chance to kill the son of Lord Hades.

With feline prowess he bound forward, dodging the slicing blade. He could almost hear the poison sizzling against the metal. Faintly, he wondered how she managed to retrieve the blades from the attic of the Big House, where all the spoils of battle were kept. The monster managed to block his thrust of the blade and return it with a hard swing against his side. It simply ricocheted off the misty armor, though the strength of the hit was strong enough to send him soaring and smash hard into the dirt terrain. He was dizzy for a moment but jumped up at the sound of an enraged roar, ignoring the head rush that came with his sudden movement. The monster as absolutely livid that he some how survived the blow. He had no time to move before the blade sliced across his thigh.

_Pain._

Absolute pain, almost as bad as his transformation, shot through his veins and immediately began to consume him. His heart thrummed faster and faster as he felt his own life force fade drastically.

The monster laughed.

His vision darkened.

No one dared step forth, retrieve him.

In the corner of his swiftly fading sight he seen a flash of gold rushing down the hill, coming toward him, though he knew that Will would not make it in time. A pang twinged in his heart as he thought of what could happen to the senior camper if he attempted to retrieve Nico's pallid form. With almost the last amount of strength in his body, he summoned the shadows to hold the struggling camper in his place. He could faintly hear the melodic baritone voice shouting protests, calling out in desperation for Nico to hold on, to let him go. With pained tears stinging his eyes he even heard Will shouting for someone, _anyone_, to save Nico. A small flutter of happiness captured his now slowing heart as his vision began to fade and his control on the shadows began to weaken.

_Darkness._

Everything was dark and he felt nothing but cold.

He knew this was not the Underworld, but then where was he?

A faint, familiar laugh echoed from the shadows.

An alluring figure made herself known once more.

_Nyx._

He bowed deeply before she motioned for him to rise.

_'Young hero, it is about time I reveal my gift to you, is it not? You have but a moment before I release you back into the battle. Be quick, for I will not hold the other godling for long. Just remember your flaw, and do not forget to sacrifice for me every once and a while.'_

She was serious through out her little talk, though at the end she gave a little wink, showing her playful side once more. He gave but a nod, a small grin dancing on his lips. Of course he would sacrifice to the deity for she was more than generous to him. She ran a cool, black hand across his blight features before she pushed him once more.

_Light._

He awoke with a start and sucked in a painful breath before he realized he had not been sleeping, but rather unconscious from _Kampê_. Obsidian eyes glanced around quickly as he lay for a moment, the pain in his leg keeping him from moving. Everyone stared at his body from a distance as the monster laughed. He still heard Will shouting, but more so in anger and desperation at his unmoving form. Suddenly he realized what Lady Nyx had meant by she would not hold him for long. He could see Will break free and come sprinting down the hill, right toward danger.

Ignoring the pain, Nico shot up from the ground, stunning everyone, including _Kampê_. Will had stopped running, shocked at his sudden vigorous movement. He glanced at the wound, surprised to see not crimson blood, but rather black blood slithering down his leg. It suddenly stopped, retreating back into the wound and sealed over, leaving an odd gray scar across his exposed thigh. There were many gasps. Nico simply raised his brows in surprise before he felt the ground shake fiercely with the enraged roar released from the monster. She surged forward, attempting to kill the demigod once and for all.

Nico felt a rush of power as he slid out of her path. He engaged her in an epic battle, knowing only one would walk away from this fight. The poisoned scimitar sliced across the small exposed portion of his face, cutting up the right side of his face, starting at the lip. He looked almost harlequin. All he needed was the left to match and make the iconic satirical grin. The obsidian blood entered his mouth and he could taste the difference from before. It no longer tasted like a copper penny beneath his tongue, but a viscous liquid form of ashes. He grimaced at the horrible flavor laying on his taste buds. Soon it seemed to fade as the wound healed, leaving a gray scar in its place. He never paused in his battle against the beast as he pushed her back further and further from the camp. She grew angrier with every strike deflected and every wound healed. The creatures mid waist changed quicker than before, snapping and howling out in anger, causing all sound but this battle to fade.

Finally, he seen an opportunity to strike. After dodging the strike of the dual scimitars, he lunged forward, avoiding the snapping heads, and stabbed her just below the hideous belt. She let out the loudest, most horrific sound he had ever heard. It caused him to release the sword, still embedded in her flesh, and cover his ears. It shook the trees and caused other demigods to fall to the ground, covering their own ears. Even Peleus and Mrs. O'Leary whimpered, trying to avoid the sound. The guttural screech died as she began to erupt into familiar green flames. Like an explosion, she was gone. Greek fire was sent soaring all across the place. To his horror it landed on Thalia's pine tree. The White House sized tree was slowly being eaten away by fire. The campers screamed in terror at the shower of flames and attempted to save the tree. Then, one of the worst things that could happen happened. The Golden Fleece itself was ravaged by flames. Even Chiron let out a horrified sound as he rushed forth to try and rescue their protection. It was too late.

He could already feel the magic of the boarders weaken as Fleece was consumed by fire. Everyone cried out at the feeling, knowing full well that they were much more exposed to danger. Before anyone had a chance to turn on Nico, he was gone. He snatched up his sword and the two poisoned scimitars before shadow traveling to his cabin. Only Will noticed his immediate disappearance.

Nico crashed onto his bed. Panic and absolute self-loathing seethed through his veins as he tore away at everything in reach. It had been a very long time since he had taken his anger and hatred out in such a manner as this. Whatever was close by him was absolutely ravaged. He cut through the desk sitting against the furthest wall with a scimitar, not being foolish enough to use his own and risk more fire. He mutilated the chairs and couch. The two bunk beds were destroy, both top bunks toppled onto the ground with a loud crash. Every picture was broken, every glass object was smashed. He punched the walls, shattering his fists again, only this time they healed nearly instantaneously. Each article of clothing was shredded into unrecognizable strips of cloth. Among the carnage, the clothes he was currently wearing were torn as well. He gripped his head as he threw himself on his mutilated bed. Fingers curled through oil-slick black hair and he pulled, faintly relieved at feeling the sting. He threw back his head, barely feeling the pain as his skull smashed off the obsidian wall.

_Loathing._

He absolutely loathed himself. How stupid could he possibly be? How utterly incompetent, useless, worthless, and pathetic could he get? His own failure and self-hatred had his nails digging into the tend flash of his upper arms, as if trying to hold himself together as he fell apart. If only he wasn't so damn ignorant and just opened the fissure up to swallow the monster, none of this would matter! Perhaps that was what Lady Nyx had meant about remembering his flaw. Had he not wanted that creature to feel the pain those campers felt and just got it over with, the Fleece would still be here and the camp would not be endangered.

Pain ebbed at his being, slowly consuming him and replacing the rage with utter despair. It was all his fault. His father was right, Bianca would be better than him. He should be the one that's dead. Tears pricked at his eyes as he felt the depression rising up inside him. It tore away at his insides, eating him alive, forcing him into the darkest edges of his mind. He always felt the worst at this point. Hopelessness tore away any thoughts of happiness to come. No one would want this stupid, destructive, moody kid around. He wasn't worth one of those lives out there! Perhaps they should just throw him to the Hounds and leave him to his fate. It would certainly be more useful than having him around just to fuck up something else and kill more innocents. He was nothing but dirt, lowly and disgusting. Nobody would care if he were to die, they'd just rejoice that he was finally gone. Percy, Will, Annabeth...They were probably just too nice to actually tell him how useless and pathetic he truly was. Why should he burden them? They deserved better than him!

Tears flowed freely as he poisoned his mind further and further, receding into his mental abuse. The more he thought of those irrational reasons, the more he believed them and the more pain tore him apart. He was ugly through and through. Why was he the one to live and not his sister? She was so much better than he could ever hope to be. She was kind, funny, smart, caring, and brave. The opposite of what he was. He did not hear the door creak open, nor did he feel the rumbling as his cabin shook. What he did hear, however, had him stiffen and hold his breath.

_'Oh come on! I'm just trying to help your son!'_

At those words the tremors ceased and an almost grudging groan was heard as the door slammed shut itself. He recognized that voice as his cousin, the famous, adored, and legendary Percy Jackson.

Blood-shot eyes peeked up to see Percy gaping slightly at the mess that was his cabin before turning to look at Nico's slumped form. Percy was around six feet, very well built without being hulking, bed head black hair, sea green eyes, and an air of friendliness. Protection. His expression, normally grinning, was instead concerned. Nico almost convinced himself that Percy was just acting, but he could not fool himself. If there was one thing Nico knew, it was that Percy could not act to save his life. Many thought that he was stupid, but Nico knew better. He was simply oblivious to the obvious. Percy was smarter than he was given credit for, and he knew he didn't mind. That was one thing Nico admired most about his cousin. He was utterly selfless and never looked for thanks or praise.

Immediately, his cousin rushed to the torn up bed and sat down next to him.

_'Nico, what's wrong? What did you do?'_

He knew Percy meant good, but he was so completely blunt he sometimes did not catch how terrible his choice of wording could be. Nico just choked back a sob, refusing to look weak now. Percy was the last person he wanted to cry in front of, his father aside. Percy was such a big hero, so loved, and so absolutely perfect that Nico did not want to taint that with his pathetic toilings. Without notice, he felt arms wrap around his shoulders as he was pressed into the side of his cousin. He wasn't used to such affection since his sister and immediately froze, though he didn't push away, finding comfort in the motion. Teeth bit harshly against his lower lip as he forced back tears, his body convulsing slightly at the effort.

_'Seriously Nico, just tell me what's up! I hate seeing you like this, it...scares me.'_

Nico could tell that it was awkward for Percy to be emotional like this, but he knew it was sincere. He wanted to talk, he did! He wanted to be comforted, but it just hurt him too terribly, made him feel weaker. The taste of ashes invaded his mouth as he realized he split his lip from the force of the bite. His eyes closed tight as another vicious set of sobs choked him, seized his terrorized heart, and beat in his skull. Finally, he could no longer take it. He buried his head into his hands and just let the sobs rack his body silently. Arms pulled him closer in a sort of side hug, attempting to comfort him. It was silent, accept for the commotion outside and the sound of the occasional gasp for air from Nico.

_"I'm...I'm so fucking stupid! Why am I even here? I do more bad than good...Why couldn't it be me instead of her? She'd do such a better job then me. My dad's right. They're all right! Gods damn it!"_

In frustration, he slammed his fist onto the bed, not nearly satisfied with the way it cushioned the blow. Percy stayed silent, just keeping one arm around his shoulder and holding him as Nico growled out his thoughts, silently betraying himself to one of the only people he knew he could trust. Percy's face grew darker with each obscenity, each degradation muttered from his cousin's lips. It killed him to know that Nico was wasting away, withering up and blaming himself for _everything_. No, he had to stop this! He frowned as he held tight to Nico, afraid he'd just disappear into the shadows or even worse, disappear into himself again. Well, he knew his cousin was brooding, but he never knew to what extent he tortured himself mentally. All he knew was that he never shared his thoughts or feelings, never betrayed any emotion but bitter sarcasm, anger, and irritation. Percy felt it was up to him to drag Nico out of this, and whether Nico liked it or not, he had a new sidekick.

So they sat in silence in the cabin. Percy stayed until the physically younger kid fell asleep, and even then he simply sat there, as if protecting him from all the evils of the world, evils he could not imagine that tortured his cousin's mind.

_Fury._

Percy was absolutely furious as he thought over what Nico muttered silently. It took a few moments, but he realized that by _'They're all right!'_ the other campers had teased Nico about his sister's death and other such topics in a sadistic manner, degrading him. Wore away his self-confidence. Killed him inside.

_"Erase this monster I've become_

_Forgive me for all the damage done_

_It's not over_

_Say it's not over_

_I'm begging for mercy_

_I'm only the monster you made me"_

_-'Monster You Made' by Pop Evil_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, any of the characters, quotes, or The Crow.**

**Formatting and content inspired from The Crow by James O'Barr**

**A/N**

**WOW. Long wait for this? I completely apologize.**

**I wrote this in just a couple hours today by a sudden spark of muse, sorry for the wait and sorry for this POS.**

**I'm not good with comfort, hence the very minuscule part mentioning Percy comforting Nico.**

**Why did I mention Will Solace so much? Because he is my third, if not tied for second, favorite character. Who can't love Mr. Solace with a passion? Don't answer that.**

**THANK YOU FOR THE PATIENCE AND ALL THE AMAZING REVIEWS!**

**Thank you to: Izzy98 for the idea on the attack on camp going wrong on him**

**Alexander Caesar for one of the greatest reviews I ever received. Seriously, ever.**

**and every other person who had reviewed, because you make me want to write more and more. I don't deserve such AMAZING reviews.**

**I would name you all, but that would take up a vast amount of space, and long AN must annoy many of you.**

**A special thank you to XxXBlackPhoenixXxX for the messages with ideas! They're extremely helpful.**

**Question time: What do you all think about the title 'skiá prínkipas' (Shadow Prince) instead of what I have right now? I think it sounds less corny haha.**

**Now, no one won the contest because, naturally, there were no entrants. I can't blame you all, I expected this but I figured I may as well throw it out there for fun. What could it harm?**

**What do you guys think about him with wings? Now, before everyone goes crazy I'll elucidate. In the next chapter, which I do have planned out, something happens involving Thanatos which may result in wings for Nico, but it may not also. It all depends. It's a risky thought, but if played right it could work out well, or horrifically. Let's just say, it involves his powers. Ideas? I'm still on the fence, leaning no, but I can be persuaded with convincing thoughts! So let me hear them.**

**Finally; Vote on my poll involving TGKC sequel. There WILL be a sequel, I already have it partially planned out. So far there are four or five votes. It will end once I finish up the last chapter. Expect part Five today, or this weekend at the latest.**

**Reviews, CC, etc. welcome.**


	5. Part Five: D E A T H

**The Ghost King Chronicles**

_"Because I Could Not Stop For Death_

_He Kindly Stopped For Me_

_The Carriage Held But Just Ourselves_

_And Immortality"_

_-Emily Dickinson_

**C o n t e n t s**

Part O N E:

_PAIN_

Part T W O:

_FEAR_

Part T H R E E:

_IRONY_

Part F O U R:

_DESPAIR_

Part F I V E:

_DEATH_

_**D E A T H**_

_"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge - myth is more potent than __history__  
- dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience  
- laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death."  
- Robert Fulghum_

_Cracking._

_The Creature withering in the shadows laughs; a scathing haunting sound._

_Snapping._

_Blood-stained ivory bones break in two; shards fly and bone fragements decorate the blackened floor._

_Clawed fingers grasp a femur, still doused in crimson and speckled with meat. Enamels, elongated and sharp, find their way to the morsel and devour the remenants of his meal. _

_A sickening slurping sound could be heard from the beast as he sucked on the bone, leaving nothing left on it's surface. _

_He licks his lips, savoring the unique flavor._

_Demi-blood._

_It was utterly divine, better than any corpses littering the face of the Earth._

_When he tasted their life upon his tongue, he could almost taste the essence of their Godly parent._

_The Ares children tasted bitter. He could get the small sensation of their warrior ways and drive fueled by anger. Marvelous._

_Offspring of Phoebus Apollo, now they were much sweeter on the taste buds. Almost a dessert, really. Smooth, warm, and delectable. Some, however, had inherited their father's taste of plague, much less appealing to the senses._

_Spawn of Hermes. Each had a unique taste of a different region. As the patron god of travelers, such a thing was common._

_Crunch._

_Another bone splintered._

_Greedy lips sucked the very marrow from the fragile structure. The corpse of a young demigod lay before his sickly black-blue form. This one tasted the sweetest of all. He devoured the body, flesh, sinew, muscle, and all. The looming creature's meal was born of Aphrodite. The very name set his nerves on end, vivid depictions of the beautiful Goddess causing him to cackle in ecstasy. He was a creature far more pernicious than many gave him credit for._

_Clunk._

_He threw the bones into a mounting pile and wiped the unsavory residue on the vulture flesh cloak he sat upon. _

_No one ever recognized him._

_In the fables, he was rarely depicted._

_Hardly mentioned._

_Ire filled his divine veins, sending him howling in rage. _

_With a calming thought he relaxed._

_Talons gripped the corpse of another, much more desecrated body. This one tasted harsh. _

_Athena's._

_Sharp nails tore into the abdomen, tearing out the innards and splattering the godly blood all about. He bellowed out a crackling laugh as he felt the soft organs against his flesh._

_So soft._

_So tender._

_So vulnerable._

_Just because one parent is a God or Goddess did not mean they were safe. Oh no, if they were then he would not be feasting on the countless young bodies all around him._

_The Titan war and sent him an influx of corpses, but even now he had many more, due to monster attacks and natural catastrophes._

_Where were their Gods now?_

_They lounged haughtily on their lofty thrones, not caring for their mortal offspring. Why should they? They're replacable!_

_He grinned malicious as he ravaged the bloodied body. Bones snapped, flesh tore, and blood splaterred about with a sickening sloshing sound. It was heavenly._

_Of course those damned Gods don't care! Otherwise their precious children would be protected. Deep chasms glanced up to look at a small little carcass, no older than two. It would be treated no differently than the rest. He would consume all of the child. Broken skeletal remains would be all that's left of the child to mourn._

_Had they cared, that kid, barely old enough to walk, would still be living and playing._

_The pallid complexion and foggy, unseeing eyes were just as the rest. A nameless face in his sea of victims._

_He did not kill them. No, most certainly not! He simply enjoyed scaveging the remains._

_Fangs tore apart the flesh on the back of his current selected dinner, and he chewed with manic satisfaction. A prickling sensation traveled up his horrid spine, and he could feel someone watching him. _

_Bloodied lips peeled back in a horrific snarl, revealing messy, flesh-ridden teeth. A guttural sound rose in the back of his throat as he swiped a claw through the general direction of the piercing stare._

_Demigod dreams._

_How he despised them. It was one of the only times one had been aimed at him, and it frustrated the creature endlessly._

_No matter, they seen nothing but his feast of flesh._

_Soon, however, his plan would unfold and those loathsome Gods would be dispatched. _

_His realm would rain with bodies and he would finally reveal just how horrid he could be._

_Fear._

It coursed through Nico's veins as he bolted awake.

So vivid was that dream.

Or was it a nightmare?

No matter, he wished it were just that. _A nightmare._

He knew it was not the case.

It was a demigod dream; a cursed vision that plagues his kind.

_Horror._

His mind traced back to the content of the dream.

Why did he receive one such as that?

A shudder rolled down his spine as images of mutilated corpses and a creature feasting with glee.

_Blood._

_So much blood._

Bones were the main view; their stark appearance standing out in the blackened cave.

Next were the bodies. So many littered the grounds.

They were piled up ontop of one another, varying in age, race, and parentage.

Did the Gods truly have so many offspring?

Were any his siblings? Cousins? Nieces or nephews?

Goosebumps raised on his arms and his stomach churned, threatening with putrid bile to cause him to be sick at the mere thought of one of those corpses being his dear, sweet sister.

What creature, so ghastly in makeup, could that be?

Tremors racked his body. A cold sweat left his shirt clinging to the sharp definitions of his body, further accentuating the dread coursing through him.

He threw his legs over the side of his bed. The cold marble felt harsh and foreign to his bare feet as he stood and made his way to the door. A cold gust of wind greeted his exposed torso once he stepped out of his dark cabin. With just a glance back he closed the door, hiding away the damage done to the inside. With help from Percy and Will it was mostly cleaned up, though there were still tell-tale remnants of his rampage.

Nico wasted no time heading to the Big House. It was still dark outside, the clock in his cabin had read 3:15 a.m. The rest of the camp would be awake in approximately two hours and fourty-five minutes. It may seem early to anyone else, but it was common for activities to begin once the sun began to peek. Blackened eyes glanced up at cabin eight in passing. The empty silver lodge glowed in the rays of the moon like a miniture replica. The only time anyone dared step foot in the sacred housing was when the Hunters were residing here for a moment. It was magnificent how it seemed to imitate the lunar sphere just as cabin seven gleamed brilliantly like the sun. His cabin, cabin thirteen seemed to drain away all light and stood in a darkness all its own.

With a sigh he stepped up the stairs and onto the porch of the Big House. He rapped on the door, awaiting the arrival of Chiron. He could hear a slight shuffling and then the clip-clopping of hooves against the wooden floorboards. Soon the door was opened and a pair of wise brown eyes met his. Nico noticed the curlers rolled up in the ivory tail of his mentor but paid no mind, knowing it was common place for Chiron, though rather odd. The old centaur backed up, offering Nico room to walk in while speaking calmly.

_"Nico, what's a matter? Activities don't start for nearly three hours and I don't suppose this is a social visit."_

Nico let out a grim grin before walking into the building and taking a seat on a nearby chair. He ran a pale hand through his dark ebony hair. The rings around his eyes were prominent. Anxiety laced his stoic features and he finally spoke rasping tones.

_"Sorry, but it's not social. I had a demi-dream. I don't know what it means. There was this creature, I don't know if it was a God or a monster or what it was. But it was sitting in a cave and it was eating. Eating...eating dead demigods. There were so many bodies. So many bodies..."_

His voice trailed off, the memories flashing before his eyes and a sense of sickening fury flared to live in his being. Fists clenched in an attempt to quell the pulsating emotions. Chiron waited, knowing Nico was but collecting himself. Soon the hero began speaking once more, trying to finish up the dream as quickly as possible.

_"It just sat there, tearing them all apart and eating them. Where did all the bodies come from and who was that creature? I don't remember much about it. All I can recall, besides the corpses, was that it looked like black or dark blue with claws and fangs. Oh, and it was sitting on a vulture skin cloak. Why did I dream of this?"_

Chiron remained silent, a look of contemplation on his features. His occupied tail seemed to sway about naturally in thought. The expression on his face wasn't all too reassuring. After another minute of uneasy silence Chiron spoke up.

_"It appears you've seen the demon Eurynomus. Why you'd dream of him, I do not know. He has never stirred trouble before. Normally he reaps the benefits of our wars with the bodies. You have given me a lot to think about. For now you can go back to your cabin, just keep me informed if you dream of him anymore."_

_Eurynomus?_

Nico had heard the name in passing. The demon lived in his father's realm and was presumably a child of Lady Nyx and Lord Erebus, though he didn't know for sure. He gave a nod and swept out of the door. However, he did not go to his cabin. Instead he made his way to Zeus' fist and sat on the rock, examining the past entrance to the Labyrinth. Painful memories sprung up in his mind. How he wished he could numb himself. His head laid in his hands and he let the hurt wash over him, reminding he was still breathing. Maybe not living, but close enough. A singular tear fell from his eye. It was ashen in color, just as his blood was though it was not quite so coagulated. He needed to stop this, stop feeling so fucking pathetic, so damn weak! He had to stop crying. It got him nowhere.

Nails tore into the soft flesh of his neck as he tried to force himself into a catatonic state. Nothing was ever accomplished with tears.

The large boulder began to rumble and the shadows tightened around him. He was losing control.

_Again._

He grew angry at his weakness. Before anything could escalate he allowed himself to sink into the shadows.

Instead of travelling, he allowed himself to rest in the endless dark. Frost left his lips with each breath and the cold of the abyss bit at his flesh, though he was accustomed to the feeling. The faint sound of the shadow-dwelling monsters met his ears.

He ignored them.

With a tremor of utter aggrivation, he let himself explode. Had he been anywhere but this unending night the ground would have shook and split apart like the fiercest of earthquakes, shadows would have ravaged anything within reach, skeletal servants and shades would terrorize the residents, and utter hell would break loose.

It felt like an endless rain of hate and power storming from the hafling. Monsters screamed in the distant darkness yet he paid them no mind. It was his chance to release everything building on him without injuring another as he was well known for. Finally the torrent ended and he was left drained. With great effort he hauled himself from the shadow realm and onto the bed of his cabin. Not a moment later all was black.

Only two hours later there was pounding on his door, yet he slept right through it. It was not until around eight a.m. that the pounding started again. This time it broke through the haze of sleep. He groaned, feeling sore from head to toe. As he searched for some nectar or ambrosia, he felt so utterly weak. Even in the midst of rummaging through his drawers his lids began to droop. It took more of the barrage on his door to get him back to looking. Finally his fingers came across a cake-like substance. He immediately devoured a portion of the ambosia, feeling much more renewed and energized.

Standing up and stretching he moved to open the door, nearly getting hit in the face by his cousin's fist.

_"Oh shit, sorry dude. 'Bout time you got up! Come on, you already missed breakfast but I snagged you some food. I know, I'm awesome, no need to say it."_

Nico couldn't help but grin at his cousin. He laughed and nodded.

_"Yeah yeah, hold on man, I need to at least put on pants. You might be comfortable walking camp in your underwear, but I'm not."_

Percy laughed, feeling like face palming at his thoughtlessness. Of course he would forget to let Nico get dressed. After a minute or two Nico walked out fully dressed. Black jeans, black shirt, black shoes.

_"Jeeze, you're more colorful than Butch. Are you sure you're not a child of Iris?"_

Nico rolled his eyes at the jab, smirking lightly before coming back with a retort as they made their way to the pavilion to get the saved breakfast.

_"I don't maybe I am. And maybe you're a son of Apollo."_

Percy just laughed at the comparison. He was great with a sword, but when it came to a bow and arrows, well, he'd be better off fighting the enemy with a trout for a weapon.

They reached the pavillion and sitting there, as promised, was a plate of food. It was already cold, but Nico didn't really care. Food is food. He took the plate up to the brazier and sacrificed the two best pieces of bacon and a pancake.

_"For Hades."_

He went to turn but after a moment of contemplation he threw in another pancake.

_"And for Nyx."_

Movement caught his eye and he looked to see Hestia poking the embers, grinning at him. Her form was that of a child. Nico grinned a wry grin, giving a bow to her.

_"Hello Lady Hestia. It's a pleasure to see you again."_

She gave a nod and another warm smile before speaking.

_"And what a pleasure it is to see you again too, Nico."_

With a wave, she told him to finish eating and that they will speak again when they are both free. Percy and Nico sat in an easy silence. The larger demigod grinned in amusement as he observed his smaller cousin devouring the food rapidly. All too soon Nico found his plate empty. Percy just laughed at the stricken expression on his face.

They rose and began walking to the arena to not only practice sword fighting but also teach some of the newer demigods as well. Light, fun chatter went on between the two. It seemed that Percy was the only one he could speak to so openly and freely. It felt amazing to be able to have that with just one person. It made it only that much more precious to him. He easily understood why everyone looked up to his cousin.

They were stopped by a young girl. She seemed no older than fourteen or fifteen. Her expression was stormy, absolutely livid. Her eyes seemed to change and flash.

_"Jackson and di Angelo!"_

Both stopped and looked at her in question. Percy spoke up, breaking the awkward, tension-riddle silence.

_"Uh, yeah?"_

She seemed to grow angrier just by him speaking. She let out an aggrivated yell and suddenly with a motion of her hands a large ball of energy came soaring at the two. With wide eyes Nico thrust his hands upward, sending a large wall of earth as a barricade to block the strike. There was a rumble and Nico let the ground fall back in it's normal place, leaving yet another hideous scar on the ground. She attempted yet another manuever but was stopped as he bound her in the shadows. A furious screech broke through her vocals and she thrashed around, angrier than most anyone he has ever seen.

_"You fools! Jackson, I will kill you! My mother is in exile because of you! You and that damned prophecy! Kronos was right to try and overthrow the Gods, yet you had to show up and stop him. I HATE YOU!"_

There were angry tears rolling down her face and both stood in shock at her words. She was a follower of Kronos and they had so easily let her into the boundries of camp? Nico let out a snarl and began to storm up to her. He was not wearing his crown, it was in his pocket so he would not scare everyone, yet he did not need it to frighten her. The absolute terror rolled from his frame, promising death and torture in the afterlife. A pallid hand grasped the but of his stygian sword but the hand of his cousin on his shoulder stopped him.

He glanced up to see those sea green eyes storming. The sky seemed to darken with his mood and the wind picked up. Percy seemed to realize what he was doing and took deep breaths, attempting to calm himself and not bring about a hurricane. He looked at the girl coolly.

_"Your mother was wrong for siding with Kronos. He would have killed you and entrapped her once he regained his powers. He was selfish and destructive. You'll be let go, but if I see you causing problems in camp, so help me even Lord Apollo won't be able to heal you."_

Nico's brows rose at the threat. He knew Percy could never really hurt anyone, but they didn't need to know that. On the other hand, Nico had no issues with pummelling anyone who threatened his family, especially his cousin. The girl still looked irate, yet a spark of fear flashed through her. There was a moment of heavy silence and he stared the girl down until she looked away. With that Percy motioned for Nico to let her go so they could leave. Obsidian eyes caught her violet ones and he gave her a vicious sneer as he let the shadows drop. She fell in a heap on the ground, coughing and rubbing her now bruised extremities. Both males turned and began to walk away when they heard her whispering angrily.

_"You fucked up Jackson. You shouldn't have let me go. Nico was right to want to kill me."_

Both turned to look at her as she stood up shakily, an energy glowing around her as she flicked her hands. Immediately he felt a wave of extreme heat. His eyes widened as he heard the most horrific sound.

_Screaming._

The sound was so pure in form. He could _feel _the pain. Nico didn't need to look to know who it was, but he did. His heart dropped, his throat clenched, and everything went numb. There was his cousin, Percy, engulfed in flames. Normally he'd be unafraid due to the curse of Achilles, but that's just it.

_His Achilles heel._

The girl knew of his curse, everyone did. She didn't know it's location so she did the only thing she thought of. She completely consumed him in flames. That way it would reach his heel, where ever it was.

Nico let out a scream, throwing shadow over his cousin to suffocate the deadly fire, hoping to save his cousin. The guttural sounds stopped and when the shadows dissipated, laying on the ground was Percy. He seemed untouched, except for the small of his back, which was charred. Those sea green eyes seemed to dim in color and an ivory fog clouded over them. Nico let out another scream as he dropped to his knees, grabbing hold of his cousin.

_Pain._

He hugged the body to him, tears flowed freely.

_Agony._

Not Percy. It can't be Percy!

_Disbelief._

He always seen his cousin as indestructible, timeless. Immortal.

Ashen tears stained the quickly cooling body.

It felt as if his insides were being torn out.

His eyes burned, his head pounded, and he felt a pain so unbelievable it rivaled that of his sister's. Mournful sounds, guttural and inhuman, escaped his throat as he craddle his cousin. A crowd came to inspect the scene, only to gasp in shock at the sight.

There were more screams, more cries. Wails echoed and immediately the sky churned and darkened. Chiron broke into the scene, immediately stopped, and stared in shock. Immediately his face contorted into a pained expression and tears obscured his vision. The wise old centaur could feel a pain unrivaled by any of his past pupils. None were quite like this young son of Poseidon.

Some fell to the ground, finding their legs incapable of supporting the weight of this event. None dared approach Nico and the body of their hero and leader. Suddenly, Nico's head snapped up. Blood-shot black eyes scoured the crowd until they landed on the retreating form of the girl.

A hatred and anger so absolutely divine in purity exploded in him, sending the ground rocking and many of the campers falling. The shadows went wild and he screamed out, a sound expressing all the hate and pain his body could never display. He laid the body down gently, rising to his feet and entrapping her once more in the shadows.

Campers parted like the Red Sea as he stormed his way toward the trapped child. She stared, wide-eyed at the coming Nico. Her breathing was short and labored as she struggled, focusing on her powers and finding herself unable to break the bonds of the strong demigod. He drew his three foot stygian sword. Immediately the tearful crowd flinched back. The crown found its way to its rightful place on his head. The terror seized her and she began to cry out, trying to escape.

_"Cry all you want snake, no one will aid you now. You will suffer a gruesome death and an even more gruesome time in the Fields of Punishment. Better yet, how about Tartarus. You made a mistake the second you thought to harm him."_

There were cries of outrage and shock at the revelation that the girl had done it. Lou Ellen seemed especially stunned. Tears paraded down the girls face, and she felt betrayed by the actions of her sister. The girl went to retort, to taunt him on the loss of the 'Great Perseus Jackson'. She had no chance.

_Stick the knife in._

Nico's sword found home in her abdoment, just above the navel. Instead of words, she gasped out.

_Deeper._

He pushed it in further, finding a sick pleasure as it went through the other side.

_Twist it._

A scream finally found it's way from her voice as he twisted the sword. Blood cascaded from the wound like a waterfall.

_Break it off._

With an angry grunt he sliced upward from her navel to her chin, a style reminescent of Macbeth. Her life was quickly fading and the wound he had created was already beginning to sizzle, small flecks of Greek fire started to spring up. With one last vindicitive yell he withdrew his sword and swung it around, making a clean cut through the neck. The shadows dropped and with it so did her body. The head rolled from the corpse in the most grotesque of fashions, yet he found no compassion, no pity in his system. Only unadulterated animosity and spite. How he wished to continue with her torment. The Greek flames immediately consumed her in the same fashion as they consumed his cousin. He stabbed his sword into the ground, condemning her soul to an eternity in the pitt of Tartarus, though his sword soaked up the energy of her being, leaving but a pained and empty shade.

_Forever would she feel pain._

He turned, no longer caring to look at the mess of a creature. His eyes were met with the shocked and lamenting crowd. The fear was palpable, yet he paid them no minds. He made his way back to his cousin and immediately resumed his position. There was a rumbling and flashes of brilliant light, yet he paid no mind to them. He could feel the tension in the air, the agony and remorse. There was completely silence, the sobbing aside. Suddenly, the earth shook so fiercely Nico was thrown onto his side, the ground split apart, rain fell in torents, and a storm ravaged the Camp.

_"PERSEUS!"_

He was thrown back by an unseen force. Immediately he was on his feet, sword drawn and ready to charge when he seen who it was that removed him so roughly. Poseidon stood, cradling his son in his arms. His face was drawn into an almost unrecognizable mask of pure despair. He had never seen a God in such a state. Divine eyes met his and the voice spoke rumbling tones.

_"Put that thing away boy, before you get hurt."_

The voice was flat, cold, and serious. Nico replaced the weapon into it's holster on his side. There was a moment of respective silence, heads bowed, as Poseidon held onto Percy.

_"Who did this to my son?"_

The God's voice split the silence, shattering it like glass. His voice was quiet and so very fearsome. The demigods began to tremble and backed up, afraid of the God who was slowly losing control.

Nico cleared his throat, catching the attention of the choleric deity, before pointing toward the nearly decimated corpse. Poseidon stared at the remains with utter abhorrence. He didn't need to make any motions for the corpse to suddenly disappear. Suddenly, Poseidon grimaced, a snarl raising in his throat. It was a sound so ferocious even Nico backed away.

_"No. NO!" _

The God seemed to be fighting to keep hold of the body, his Godly energy growing stronger when suddenly a figure drew itself from the darkness.

_Thanatos._

The being was not a hooded figure carrying a scyth, as so many believed of him. He was a handsome young deity with wings sprouting from his back. In his hand was an inverted torch and from his belt hung a sword. He was one of the few divine beings to keep their ancient appearance. However, he wore more clothing now than he once did.

He spoke, the tone was soothing and calm, though there was a distinct lack of remorse. He was death, he could not feel remorseful.

_"I'm sorry my lord, but it is my duty. Even you can not defy it."_

Poseidon gave him the most furious of glares, yet he could not deny that Thanatos was correct.

Nico felt has if his heart would stop beating. He immediately went through every tactic and plan in his mind to try and save his cousin. One struck and he intercepted the God from retrieving the body. He raised the stygian sword, his body contorted into battle mode and his crown transformed into the impressive armor.

_"I challenge you for the life of Perseus Jackson. If I win he can live once more. If I lose then you can take me as well."_

Thanatos laughed coldly. The God hated such moments as this. He had been beaten and tricked by mortals before. In the end, he always left with a life.

_"Silly demigod. I'm not foolish enough to bet your life."_

Nico grimaced, finding his parentage a hassle once again. He regripped his sword, trying to find something to bet.

_"Fine then, __**my lord**__, I will offer up an eternity of servitude if I happen to lose."_

The God looked more intrigued at this prospect. An eternity of servitude? It may be worth the risk.

He nodded and with a motion the torch was replaced with the sword from his belt, a large and fearsome thing.

Nico cleared his throat, speaking before the battle commenced.

_"I want you to swear it on the River Styx. Swear it and I will as well."_

Thanatos grimaced but nodded.

_"Very well. You have been taught well. I, Thanatos, God of Death, swear on the river Styx that if I lose this battle against Nico di Angelo, I will allow Perseus Jackson to live again."_

The God nodded, awaiting for Nico to do his share of the deal.

_"I, Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, swear on the river Styx that if I lose this battle against Thanatos I will give an eternity of servitude to him."_

There was rumbling in the distance, confirming the promises have been made. For a moment Nico had forgotten that Poseidon stood behind him. It was impossible for a God to perform such challenges as this over a soul, though that was not the case for their offspring. Poseidon felt a flare of hope and dread stir in his immortal soul. He mentally routed for his nephew, but knowing he could not help.

After a moment silence the battle ensued.

_Crash._

Just like thunder their blades met.

Contrasting swords moved in a flurry almost unseen. Nico moved with grace akin to his father while Thanatos swept across the ground as if flying.

_Thrust._

Nico was pushed back as the sword came in contact with the divine armor protecting his chest.

He grinned a feral grin, manic eyes dashing across his enemy.

_Pary._

Thanatos matched the oncoming weapon with a fluid motion, stopping it from coming in contact with his flesh.

_Atrocity._

Many stared in wonder and horror at the two beings fighting so fiercely. Power seeped from every particle of their beings. Shadows engulfed the scenery. Shades emerged from the ground. The earth shook. Energy crackled.

_Attrition._

Both moved, seeming to never tire as they fought valiantly, each for a cause. When would they wan? When would their bodies give way to inertia and one fall so nobly before the other?

_PAIN_

Nico knew it to such a degree he could have been its God. He wore the marks of his history upon his body. A book of flesh reading the details of such an unforgiving world.

_FEAR_

He feared little. _Death_ was one thing he feared not for himself but for those he loved. Like Percy. He hid his few fears, not wishing others to see his weakness. Nico learned, oh he learned. Fear is no weakness. It is an obstacle. Like any obstacle, once it is overcome one is stronger. He would be stronger.

_IRONY_

Nearly his entire existance showed irony. Life and death. Power and weakness. He would not break under the pressure of the polarities resting on his shoulders. _Never._

_DESPAIR_

Something he was too familiar with. Despair sat beside him to his right, and pain to his left. Together they accompanied him throughout his life. They rode together in a carriage, bypassing the Joys of life. He was ready to let them off and journey to new wonders. He would figure it out one day.

A crack, a simple crack misjudged by the God left him open to a thrust. Nico's blade sunk into the divine chest. Gasps were sounded at the end of the battle. Wide eyes met his and the God stared in disbelief.

_He had won._

With an angry look and pushed a little deeper, accentuating the victory.

He would be damned if he was tricked.

A groan sounded from the handsome God. Nico removed his blade from the cavity of his chest and stood, watching the flickering edges, which were quickly extinguished by the wounded God. There was a moment of collective silence before cheers were sounded.

Nico simply stared at the angry God. A sneer met the demigod's eyes and scathing tones so unfamiliar for the calming God rumbled from his vocals.

_"I will remember this Nico di Angelo. You may have won back the life of your cousin, but you have made a terrible enemy."_

Nico simply glared, no words escaping his lips. Finally the God disappeared and a cough was heard behind him.

In a flash he turned around to find his cousin coughing and spluttering in the arms of his father. His face lit up with a large grin. It felt foreign on his features, but so very right. His heart lept into his throat and he could scarcely believe what had happened. The sword dropped from his hand and he ran to meet Percy, only to stop. Poseidon was busy hugging his mortal son, tears of relief staining his face. Finally Percy was released and Nico immediately engulfed him into a hug of his own. At this Percy was completely shocked but hugged him back.

_"Thank Gods I won."_

Percy patted his back, laughing lightly.

_"Yeah, serving him for an eternity would have sucked."_

Nico let out a strangled laugh. His throat felt thick with restrained emotions. He finally felt all the eyes on him and attempted to fall back into his stoic uncaring disposition. After the disentangled themselves, Nico looked over to see Poseidon grinning widely at the two.

_"Thank you Nico. I too will not forget this moment. You may have made a terrible enemy but you've made an even greater ally. Thank you again."_

It felt strange when his uncle patted him on the back. He was accustomed to the affection of his cousin, but he could see it was an inherited trait.

-One week later-

Festivites had taken place in honor of Nico and Percy.

Everyone had rejoiced in the revival of their hero. Nico was hardly looked down upon from that moment, though he knew he would never be quite so popular or liked. He was still feared and the subject of rumors, but the bullying had died off. Who would bully the one who had defeated death itself?

_DEATH_

It held no reign over him.

Not any more.

Malcom ran up to Nico, Percy, and Annabeth. They were all on the beach, just lazing around. The blonde haired demigod cleared his throat, capturing their attention, before speaking.

_"Meeting in the War Hall. There has been a quest announced."_

_"_I'll dry the shadows in your soul,

I'll warm your body, I'll ease your pain,

I'll be your light in the darkness,

I am the fire in the rain. _"_

_-'Can't Rain All The Time' by Unknown_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, any of the characters, quotes, or The Crow.**

**Formatting and content inspired from The Crow by James O'Barr**

**A/N **

**Yep, that's it. That's the end! **

**How'd you like it?**

**Was it worth the wait?**

**Oh, and about the wings. I got one vote for yes. I will allow input until the first or second chapter of the sequel is up. Then I will add in if he did or did not get them.**

**How would he gain them?**

**Well, Thanatos of course! He's pissed at Nico and what better way than to curse him into soul-collecting?**

**As for the QUEST: Well, let me just say this. The sequel will be a PJATOxHP crossover.**

**It will NOT be wizard friendly in any way, shape, or form.**

**Why?**

**A daughter of HECATE killed PERCY. **

**Of course the demigods and gods will hate wizards. **

**The quest is to retrieve an object of a certain God to bring the boarders back up in camp and also inspect the wizarding world to see if they're a threat or not.**

**It will be much different than any PJATOxHP crossover you've ever read, of that I can assure you.**

**Reviews, CC, etc. welcome.**


	6. AN: Nothing Bad, Don't Worry

**AN:**

**New poll up in my profile.**

**SHOULD NICO HAVE WINGS AND IF YES, WHAT TYPE?**

**Responses are much appreciated.**

**Now, before everyone with a strict mindset freaks out, step back and think from a creative perspective.**

**Yes, it can turn out horrible and cheesy, but do you all believe I would allow myself to publish something so utterly terrible?**

**Plus, it can work to an advantage, and if worked correctly, it won't make so much a fuss as all believe it will.**

**A question I know will arise: **_**'What about Zeus? Nico can't fly!'**_

**Well, I thought about it and this would be my solution.**

**Simple. The way he inherits such wings.**

**Now, this also adresses a review I recieved from a one zenbon zakura.**

**Don't worry, I'm not upset nor am I calling you out. I'm adressing an issue you pointed out.**

_**'i would think that tantanos would realize he lost fair and square and that revenge is nothing but empty feelings'**_

**Yes, that's true. They are empty feelings, but feelings are powerful, more often more powerful than reason and rationality.**

**Anyways, the way I see it, Gods can be very proud and testy. For example, when Ares lost to Percy, Ares cursed Percy that his weapon would fail him when he most needed it. Also, Thanatos has been challenged, beaten, and tricked many times by demigods and mortals. I would suspect he'd be very unhappy with that. **

**So, he curses Nico. With what? Well, under consent, a punishment of power. Nico, like Thanatos to a much more minor degree, will collect souls. However, he collects evaded souls. This ties in to just about every sequel option. Here's a treat, I will probably be writing at least one one-shot of each option for the sequel, but the PJATO/HP crossover is the main one. How do they tie in? HP: Voldemort, Harry, all those damn Ghosts, etc. etc. Twilight: ...The vampires, obvious there. Alice in Wonderland: Well, this took a moment, but basing it off the Burton version, Tarrant and the White Queen evaded death during that bombardment. That can be argued, I'll deal with that when the time comes. PJATO: This will be easily sorted. I already have plots drawn up for all of them curtesy of the amazing ****XxXBlackPhoenixXxX**

**Nico has a new title, again with collaboration with ****XxXBlackPhoenixXxX****. We both disliked his original title, it was as cheesy as using a pun involving munster. He is now skiá prínkipas, or Shadow Prince in english. Whenever the title is referred to in my stories, it will be said in the Greek, skiá prínkipas. Keep things traditional.**

**Huh, I get off track easily, don't I? My apologies. Back to the whole concept.**

**Thanatos has wings, what does he use them for since he can just appear and disappear wherever he wants? Why, I haven't the faintest clue. However, I can either keep it for simple intimidation/awe/appearance, or I can come up for a use beyond flying for the wings. It may be hard, but that's the fun. A challenge for my creativity and ability to tie it all in.**

**And just in case anyone is curious, Nico wouldn't just randomly wake up one day 'Oh hey! Check that out, I have wings!' **

**Nope. It will involve time, pain, the ripping of flesh, bones breaking, and the readjusting of a body to compensate for the new addition.**

**Now, for the reviews:**

**To ****Chelsea180706:**** First off, thank you very much for those reviews. Hopefully you won't be found in the Fields of Punishment one day, haha. Again, thank you, but for the compliments, it does mean more to me than some may think. It's true, I was a bully and I feel terrible for what I've done. Though I didn't acquire a taste for emanating pain like that from being on the sending end of the pain. The bully, however, was nobody but myself. Self-loathing, sadomasochistic. Whatever you call it, I did it to myself and many of the thoughts he had were reflecting those of my own. Pain in such a pure, acute form is absolutely terrible and I truly wish you would have never had to experience it, but it's such events that we grow from, right? Thank you, for a third time.**

**To ****CanadianViking: ****Ahaha, thank you for the review, it truly did make my day. I'm glad I could instill such emotions just from my writings! I know, I wish there were more complete stories out there that I would enjoy, I scrounge and re-read haha. Thank you very much for the compliment and there will absolutely be a sequel, it's in the writing process now. I may be slow and a procrastinator, but I love writing and I love writing fanfics too much to stop now.**

**To ****zenbon zakura: ****Thank you for the input and I always do appreciate such thoughts! I'm glad you took the time to tell me your opinions, it always helps. I am being serious, thank you.**

**To ****Alexander Caesar:**** To say the very least, I absolutely adore you and your comments! They are what fuels me to write. Believe it or not, when I read your comments, I got giddy and giggly, hard to believe? It's not ego-stroking that has me loving your comments, but the sheer fact that I can draw such thoughts and feelings with my simple use of words. Every comment you've made literally makes my day. I've giggled and may have even shown a person or two because of how happy I was. Thank you so much, I can't properly word my thanks to the degree in which I feel it haha. Always looking forward to them. And I would never mind discussing topics like that. I'm open in that sense. **

**To ****Nerdy Necromancess:**** Thank you very much! You are the only person to answer my question, I believe haha. Thank you for the compliment as well! I too love angst, if that wasn't obvious. **

**...**

**I would absolutely love to go through all the reviews but it is currently extremely late, or early depending on your viewpoint, and I have to get up in a few short hours. Remember; EVERY REVIEW I RECIEVE I ABSOLUTELY ADORE. I read them, I think about them, and I expand from them. They urge me forward and I NEVER look down upon a review. You took the time to write what you thought about my story and so I thank you, each and every one of you.**

**Keep watching for the sequel.**

**Here's the title and quote:**

**THE AXIOMS OF RETRIBUTION**

_"There Is More Than One Way To Purify The Soul  
There Is Absolution And Redemption, Salvation And A Means To An End"_

_-'The Crow'_ by James O'Barr

**What do you all think?**

**Any ideas for what should happen?**

**Sorry for any spelling errors, spell check has failed me once again.**


	7. Announcement

**Author's Note:**

Yep, you all must be ready to kill me. Break out the pitchforks and light the torches!

No updates. None, zero, zip, nada.

As much as I hate to break it to you all, I might not be writing a sequel after all.

My time has been consumed by many various aspects of my life and personal issues abound with great force. I apologize for failing to keep my word, I really do. It makes me feel terrible and I've been putting off writing this message for a very long time, but I just can't keep anyone waiting any longer, it wouldn't be fair.

I'd love to address my reviews again, but I'm strained for time. Just be aware that I have read them all multiple times. Thank you. Just in case you missed that; **THANK YOU.**

Now, I have a proposition for everyone. I know I won't be updating BUT **I'm willing to put this story out there as a basis for any other fanfictions. It's like a multi-adoption. Anyone, not just a single person but **_**anyone **_**interested in making a sequel or even just using this concept for a story is welcome to!** I'd actually really love to read them, to see where one might take this. The only thing I ask is that if you're making a sequel, give credit where credit is due.

I believe that's all for now.


End file.
